


Amas Veritas

by punkfaerie



Series: "And fall in love whenever you can." [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Adoption, Alternative Universe - Witches, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Violence, Family Bonding, M/M, Mari's real name is Maria in this fic, Practical Magic AU, Slow Build, it's my fav movie fight me, the character death is not tragic trust me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-09-19 09:42:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 59,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9433688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkfaerie/pseuds/punkfaerie
Summary: Yuuri and Mari are two witches born into the cursed Katsuki family. It's said that centuries ago their ancestor cast a spell on herself in a fit of heartbreak and rage, only for it to develop a curse later down the line.That anyone that dared love a Katsuki would be shrouded in misfortune and tragedy.Yuuri just wants to be able to live a normal life and Mari just wants to get out of the godforsaken island that fears their family name. It would also be so much easier if their aunts stopped trying to meddle in the love lives of others and just let Yuuri run his business in peace. Really, Mari makes his life hard enough by dragging a resurrected criminal into the picture. And then there's Viktor who just wants to know what the fuck is going on.





	1. Practical Magic

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I should probably be working on A Thousand Cranes but my fav movie AU wouldn't chill the fuck out!
> 
> So if you haven't seen Practical Magic, you're not really missing out. It may be my favorite movie of all time but I know it's not a cinematic masterpiece, but if you want a movie that's lighthearted about two badass witch sisters and familial bonds then it's a wonderful movie! It's really only my favorite bc I grew up with it and bonded with my mom a lot over it. The movie also has my fav soundtrack so yeah I'm more into it than I should be. I've been thinking long and hard about this AU tbh. I just though, hey I love yoi and I love this movie, so why not both?? I mean that's basically what happened with ATC (it's my winterguard AU fic so check it out). It really evolved into something else while I was working on it and I love it so far!!
> 
> A few notes to consider:  
> \- Minako and Kanako (Kenjiro's coach in-show) are Hiroko's older and younger sister respectively  
> \- Vicchan is basically the story around Michael in the movie (for those of you that've seen it)  
> \- The first few chapters will be heavily based around Yuuri and Mari's relationship  
> \- The original story takes place in Massachusetts so I tweaked the story for it to be more Japanese-oriented so forgive my lack of knowledge about Japanese witchlore  
> \- Senna is a natural laxative ¬ ͜¬ 
> 
> Anyways, comments and criticism always appreciated!
> 
> Not beta'd.

Yuuri grew up with the story of his ancestor as reminder of his roots and his blood.

It was a comfort to him of sorts, despite it being the reason his family was treated so poorly. Not like that mattered. The Katsukis were clearly well off in their own world on their large property. Neighbors never disturbed them and they were frequently left to their own devices.

Their property consisted of a large house that had been in the family since their kitsune-tsukai ancestor exiled herself on the island. There was also a spring that was rumored to be where she gave birth to the child that she was left with.

The story itself was a bedtime tale that was well known on the little island. Any other child would’ve been familiar with the name “Atsuko-sama” and her silver haired fox and how this island came to be. If you’d ask any of them they’d say that Atsuko-sama willed for a safe place to stay, away from the menacing villagers, and wait for her lover to return.

They’d also tell you that Atsuko-sama cursed the said lover in an alternate version of the story that the adolescents would murmur amongst themselves. An urban legend of sorts.

But Yuuri knew none of that was true.

Yuuri Katsuki and his older sister, Maria Katsuki, knew very well the story of their ancestor. Their aunts had told the story to them many times, and so did their mother before them. Unfortunately it was only when the aunts told them the full story did he actually learn its truth.

A kitsune-tsukai was a powerful witch that you must never meddle with, so the story goes. The fabled Atsuko-sama was indeed the powerful kitsune-tsukai with a silver-haired fox that the children on the island knew of.

Yuuri knew Atsuko Katsuki was a kind spirit once. The villagers knew that her case was special and a mutual agreement rose between her and them: she will not bother the villagers if no one bothered her. When someone was in dire need of her assistance, an offering would be made at the steps of her gate. If the offer was deemed worthy, she would summon her kitsune and grant the villagers their wishes. If the offer was not, then the kitsune would return the offering with a single lily. She was not one to take what wasn’t hers, but she would acknowledge the needs of the villagers with a mindful eye.

But one day someone new arrived in the village and heard rumors of the famed kitsune-tsukai living on the island. In his selfish desire to satiate the curiosity of the island witch, he sought for her personally and delivered himself to the gates of her home.

That night Atsuko-sama found the most beautiful man she had ever seen. His hair was silver like the moon and his eyes as blue as the waters of the island. In turn, the foreigner was equally enamored by her raven locks and chestnut stare. To him, she was the embodiment of warmth and promise. To her, he was the embodiment of beauty and hope.

What many on the island did not consider was the loneliness of the kitsune-tsukai.

No one had ever presented themselves before. It was only ever a basket of fruit or fine silk in beautiful patterns and colors, but this time it seemed she was promised something more.

“Kitsune-tsukai,” he had said to her, “What wonderful things you bring to this village for your reputation to be so colorful.”

Atsuko-sama had no words to respond to him. She stood on the stone pathway of her garden, staring into the endless blue of his eyes. Before she could say anything or even comprehend a response, the foreigner walked past her gates to meet her where she stood.

“Come any closer and my kitsune will have you,” she said suddenly taken aback by his boldness. The man laughed and stood still in his place.

“I will do as you please but in turn will you do as I?” the man asked.

“You have offered me nothing,” she responds.

“But you are wrong there,” the man entertains, “I have offered you myself to you.”

Unsure of what to do, the beautiful kitsune-tsukai allowed the beautiful stranger into her home. She had been confused at first, a completely new sensation to someone who had never been bothered with simple human things. For as long as she could remember she had been alone and isolated from any human contact. Whatever comfort she found in life came from her kitsune and the nature that surrounded her. She could not remember being a child with friends to play or a young woman learning the ways of a wife.

For a long time, she had just been the kitsune-tsukai of the island. She was the lonely witch that granted wishes and protected the villagers.

Yuuri remembered lamenting the poor woman’s life and demanding to know why anyone would choose to be so lonely.

Now, however, she had the company of someone new. The foreigner entertained her with stories of his travels to other lands and the wonders of discovery. In turn she educated him about the nature of the island and the villagers that had so freely confided in her. The foreigner would return to the village in the day and come home to the kitsune-tsukai at night for weeks.

It was no wonder that the kitsune-tsukai and the foreigner fell in love. Or more so, it was no wonder that the lonesome witch fell for the man full of stories that could fill her lonesome heart for days.

It was no wonder that the kitsune-tsukai conceived and begged the foreigner to stay with her on the island forever.

But the foreigner was distraught and did not want to bear his existence on the island any longer. Naturally the witch did not know of this, so when he told her that he would return to his homeland and prepare for his stay with her, she believed every word he said.

So she waited by the sea for her lover to return.

And waited.

And waited.

Until the day her kitsune rescued her from the cliff by the sea and told her the truth.

That he would never return to her.

She cried and cried for days, bringing rain storms and floods to the island. He anger destroyed fields and homes while her despair wrought havoc to the once stable village lifestyle. The angered villagers had tried to drive her out but under the protection of her kitsune, they were unsuccessful. What became of it instead was a massacre so unspeakable of on the island that people began to fear the witch. The wretched witch that drove the beautiful foreigner from the island. It was a sign, some of the villagers would say, that the witch’s life was cursed! Cursed to never find happiness! Cursed to never find love!

And of course, Atsuko-sama knew this to be untrue, but her broken heart believed it. Her heart believed it so much that she cast upon herself a spell. A spell that would mend her broken heart and replace it with no need to be loved. There is no happiness in love, she reminded herself. There is no love from the silver moon and its pale light. There is no love by the sea and its deep blue tides.

In time the villagers ceased their offerings to her and she was left alone on the island, save for the silver-haired fox that protected her from prying eyes. Her spell became so effective at warding off what she had lost that it became a curse upon the Katsuki family.

A curse that they should never find happiness in love, and that should they find themselves in love tragedy will strike.

Yuuri promised himself that he would never be in love from that day forth.

His sister, Mari, of course viewed it as a challenge. If she could not find happiness in love then she would find it somewhere else. She’d find it in love for  _ something _ , rather than  _ someone _ else. He found she never really needed anyone to function properly anyways, unlike him who was constantly dependant on having someone around.

It became especially like that after their parents died.

Afterwards they were sent to live with the sisters of their mother, Minako and Kanako. Aunt Minako was the eldest of the three and had changed her last name to Okukawa to save herself from the harassment of the island. The youngest, Kanako, did the same thing but neither found anything to come out of it at all. Mari and Yuuri kept their mother’s name in her memory, but also because their father had insisted they keep the family name. He was a kind man that always cared too much.

Yuuri remembers the first time he walked up to the old house after that. Him and his sister were born on the mainland in a town called Hasetsu where their mother and met their father. At the time they had been to the small island of Tsushima many times before to visit their aunts, so they were no strangers to the ancient rickety house. In fact, it was the most at home Yuuri felt since their parents died. It was what he had left to remember his mother by.

“In this house, we dance until our feet bleed and laugh until our belly aches!” Aunt Minako had proclaimed when they ushered the siblings out of the taxi upon their arrival. “We have chocolate for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and we never bother with silly little things like homework or brushing our teeth!”

It was the most comforting thing Yuuri had come to know. Aunt Kanako hadn’t been living with them when they first moved in, but she moved in just a few months shortly after. He remembers coming downstairs one evening and finding a smaller, slender woman with beautiful black hair and kind eyes nursing a cup of tea in the dining room.

“Aunt Kanako?” he mumbled, cautiously reaching the bottom of the stairs.

“Oh my, Yuuri! How big you’ve grown!” she set down the tea cup so fast that some spilled from the sides and picked up the younger boy into a crushing hug. He couldn’t help but laugh.

“Ah, Yuuri! Sorry I was going to call you down after I finished dinner,” Minako peeked through the kitchen wearing a purple apron. Her own long chestnut colored hair was tied into a messy bun atop her head.

“I missed you so much, my little star!” she cooed at him. At eight years old he was still relatively small for his age and fit nicely in his aunt’s arms.

“I missed you too, aunt Kanako!” he clung tightly to her neck.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived,” she began to rub circles into his back. “I had just been so busy at the time, but as soon as I wasn’t I took the first flight over here!”

“You mean boat. There’s no way an air strip could fit on this god da– I mean tiny island!” Minako called from the kitchen. Kanako and Yuuri laughed.

“Where’s Maria?” she asked, putting the boy down. Kanako was much shorter than Minako, but Minako was a great deal taller than a lot of adults he knew. He was about the height of Kanako’s chest and Minako’s upper abdomen. Mari on the other hand was nearly a whole head taller than him already.

“Mari’s upstairs listening to her boy bands again,” he giggled.

“Oh, well, I’ll excuse myself to go get her then!” Kanako ruffled his hair and ascended the steps.

The house, despite its age, had served generations of the Katsuki family well. It was well over a few hundred years old, and for something that was mostly wood it stood on a firm foundation. Minako says that it was because Atsuko had cast a spell of protection on the land. She also said that’s why the roses grow where they do. Along the white wicker fence of their perimeter grew bountiful rose bushes that always bloomed earlier and lasted longer than any other on the island. It was said that Atsuko-sama grew the roses from a strand of her fox’s silver hair and a drop of her own blood. Whether or not  _ that _ was true he’d never know for sure, but he believed in the story of Atsuko-sama’s life.

It was a beautiful tragedy and Yuuri always thought it important to remember the things that made his life.

Eventually a shriek made its way through the thin, aged walls of the house indicating that Kanako had likely attacked Mari with tickles.

“Yuuri, come help set the table,” Minako called.

“Okay,” he called back.

The kitchen was a frequently used space in their house, so it was no surprise that it was one of the biggest rooms. There was an immense island counter in the middle decorated with jars of herbs and seeds used for potions and flowers for decoration. The windowsills were lined with even more flowers and fresh herbs that always brought a warming scent to their home. There were counters lined all the way around the room, illuminated by the warm glow of the overhead lamps. Jars and containers were constantly littered around the ever cluttered kitchen. Long forgotten miscellaneous tins were stacked above the oversized refrigerator on one side and hand sewn kitchen towels hanging from the stove. Needless to say it was incredibly homely and well worn.

Despite its size and overwhelming amount of cabinets in the vicinity, Yuuri had every item whereabout memorized much to Mari’s annoyance. She still had yet to differentiate the herb rack and the spice rack in the pantry and she still had no idea where the mugs were kept. Yuuri pulled out their old China plates that were lined with purple details and stacked the utensils atop the four plates. Minako had already pulled down the glasses for him since he couldn’t reach the overhead cabinets without the stool so he’d come back for those later.

“Aunt Kanako you need to stop greeting me like that,” Mari tumbled down the stairs with his other aunt chasing her behind. Both of them were breathless with laughter and Yuuri beamed at the two.

“Mari-chan help Yuuri set the table!” Minako chided, carrying a pan of something from the kitchen. The smell was unmistakable.

“Katsudon?” the little boy questioned, nearly dropping the chopsticks from his chubby hands.

“Yes, my dear,” his aunt smiles at him.

“Smells amazing, Mina!” his other aunt commented as she draped herself over the unsuspecting thirteen-year-old.

“Aunt Kanako stop that!” Mari squeaks while shoving Kanako off.

“I can’t help it when my beautiful niece just keeps getting taller and stronger every time I see her again,” she pinches Mari’s cheek. The latter swats the offending hand away and disappears into the kitchen to pick up the remaining glasses.

Yuuri climbs onto one of the large wooden chairs in their dining room next to Minako. The dining room is equally as homely, decorated with more flowers and plants and various picture frames lining the walls. Most were pictures of them featuring Hiroko and Toshiya, Yuuri and Mari’s late parents. Others were various pictures from Minako and Kanako’s own childhood with Hiroko, some even dated farther back to other generations of the Katsuki family that they never bothered to take down. There isn’t a single room in their house that isn’t littered with various plants and old objects really. It’s just one of those touches that never escapes a house that has been in a family for over three hundred years worth of generations.

“Thank you for helping, Mari-chan,” Minako pats her head as she sat next to Kanako. Mari only hums in response. “Dig in!”

Yuuri had a large appetite since he was a growing boy. He had a knack of frequently snacking and eating large portions during meals. His favorite meal happened to be katsudon as well so he was in for quite a treat. The family silently began their meal, savoring the delicious slices of pork and rice.

“Mina you got so good at cooking this,” Kanako practically moaned. Yuuri moaned in agreement as well.

“Yeah you can see why I have to lay back feeding this little piglet so much,” she pointed her chopsticks towards the younger boy.

“He’s a growing boy, there’s no need to keep anything from him. Besides, he’s so energetic! Are you still dancing?” Kanako looked towards him.

“Mmph!” he hummed, in the middle of swallowing a large bite. “Aunt Minako’s been trying to teach me again.”

“That’s nice,” she hummed in response. “What about you, Mari? Anything new in school?”

“Eh,” she makes an indifferent noise in response. School had been a touchy subject since they first began. The two arrived in the summer and began attending a month later. The other children didn’t take to well with the Katsuki children.

“Well pish and tosh to them anyways. How’s the gardening? I hear the senna should be in bloom by now,” the dark-haired aunt smirks at the girl.

“Don’t encourage her,” Minako scolds.

“Hey, she’s got a gift,” Kanako laughs and earns a smile from Mari in return.

“Speaking of not keeping anything,” their lighter-haired aunt raises an eyebrow towards the other.

“Oh yes!” Kanako slams her chopsticks down, startling the two children at the table. “I have two surprises! Surprise number one, I’m living with you guys for good!”

“Oh my god, really?” Mari jumps up from her seat and leans into her aunt. Kanako embraces her tightly and smiles at Yuuri who is just gaping at her with a wide mouth.

“Of course! Why would I pass up on getting to see my niece and nephew everyday? Plus the hot spring here’s a bonus,” she laughs. “Surprise number two is really for you, Yuuri. Ready for it?” the boy bounces off his seat.

“I want you to go into the kitchen and open the back door,” she grins at him. He looks over to his other aunt who nods her approval for him to be excused. The boy smiles widely and runs from his seat, and surely enough there’s something there. The seashell chimes jingle when he approaches, signaling a presence. He cautiously approaches door and it creaks open when he pulls on the iron handle.

And sitting patiently in front of him is a tiny, brown toy poodle puppy that yips excitedly as soon as he lays eyes on it.

“No way!” he squeals in delight and picks up the dog. The puppy covers his face in little kisses and he giggles at the light touches, holding it close. Kanako approaches from behind him and places her hand on his shoulder.

“So do you like him?” she questions.

“I love him aunt Kanako! Thank you so much!” he practically cries as the dog gets more excited and topples him over in a fit of giggles. Mari runs over and stares at the puppy agape.

“I’m glad you do. I stumbled upon him in the city and thought, my Yuuri absolutely loves dogs, and this puppy was practically screaming take me home with you!”

“What’re you gonna call it?” Mari prods and leans into Yuuri and the dog.

“I’m gonna call him Vicchan.”

“Vicchan?” his sister questions.

“Dunno, it’s cute is all,” he smiles as he pet the puppy. Yuuri adjusts his glasses and sits up.

“Alright, now that introductions are out of the way you can take him upstairs and get ready for bed, both of you! Kanako has some long overdue chores to do,” Minako yells from the kitchen inside. Kanako groans and the siblings snicker at each other.

“You heard the hag, up to the tower!” she mocks Minako’s tone and earns a yell from the kitchen. The two children scurry upstairs with the puppy chasing after. The sight warmed Kanako’s heart. Just a month ago the children had been so devastated and lost, but it seemed that Minako had done them well. She kept them busy and helped them where they needed it. Both of them knew they were lonely though, which was what really prompted Kanako to get the dog. Yuuri was especially lonely and struggled to befriend the other children. It wasn’t his fault however, people on this island were just really close-minded. One way or another people would accept them and Kanako would see to it.

“So you gonna help your old hag sister or not?” Minako calls from the kitchen. Her sister smirks and saunters over into the kitchen, leaning over the opposite end of the island.

“You seem to be working well without my help anyways,” she teases.

“Whatever,” Minako glares at her over her shoulder. Kanako only laughs.

“I don’t know what you’re doing to them, but they seem much happier since I saw them last,” she walks around the island and joins her sister to dry the dishes.

“Mari just spends her time in the garden or listening to her boy bands. She’s very musical, but she doesn’t like the idea of dancing unfortunately. Yuuri on the other hand I could say is overly fond of dancing,” she hands the last plate to the shorter and begins on the glasses.

“Wow, so we might have a little danseur on our hands?”

“Not  _ might _ , we  _ do _ have a little danseur on our hands,” Minako laughs.

“It’s nice to see them so happy now thought. Granted it’s been three months since the funeral,” Kanako sighs and pauses from drying the dishes. Minako seems to have the same idea and sets the glass she had been working on back in the sink.

“I can’t believe it’s been three months,” she wistfully sighs. Her eyes being stinging and she straightens herself up, resuming her work on the glass.

“Is that why you picked up that mutt?” Minako hands the glass over to her sister.

“Hey, Yuuri needs another friend. ‘S not like anyone here’s doing any better at trying,” she bumps her hip against the taller. “Have you been tutoring them?”

“Well between playing mom and running a sinking business, it’s a little tricky. But they enjoy the books immensely. It seems like our boy is very gifted and Mari’s getting better everyday. Honestly, I don’t know how Hiroko did it,” she finishes up the last pair of chopsticks and leans against the sink.

“She’s always been good at multitasking and was quite the homemaker too. She was the only one that ever bothered considered having a family among us anyways,” Kanako finishes drying and leans against her sister. The air grows silent and mournful between them.

“I always thought she was crazy,” Minako chuckles silently, trying to keep her composure.

“Hiroko was crazy, but she was also happy,” the shorter wraps her arms around the taller and hides her face in Minako’s shoulder.

“Yeah, she and Toshiya died happy,” Minako cards her hand through Kanako’s hair.

“I still can’t believe she’s gone,” Kanako silently cries.

“Neither can I,” Minako turns to fully hug her. “Neither can I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i live on the hellsite: [y-katsukiis](http://y-katsukiis.tumblr.com/)


	2. Crystal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being the gifted witch he is, there's always an unconventional way of dealing with things. The aunts also reveal a side of their family that Yuuri had yet to understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, this fic is getting way more attention than I anticipated. Thanks very much!
> 
> So I just wanted to point out that Yuuri here is pretty much the same age as Sally is in the movie when this scene happens. Mari is older than him by about five years.
> 
> Most if not all the spells in this fic will be made up. I do however do some research on spells as reference. This one was just kind of pulled out of my ass.
> 
> Not beta'd.
> 
> [Chp Edited: 23/04/17]

Yuuri’s favorite room in their home was the greenhouse. It connected to the living room area and doubled as a day room. A double glass door protected their living room from the specific conditions of the other room. Unlike the decorative plants scattered around the house, the room housed plants with actual medicinal and magical purposes. The aunts were teaching him and his sister the art of potion making and spell casting, and Yuuri greatly enjoyed how plants factored into it.

Each pot of flora had a special ability, and when combined correctly had different effects on the spell cast or elixir made. Not to mention that Yuuri loved gardening much like his sister. He however preferred gardening when it came to magic. When it came to Mari, she loved caring for the flowers and vegetables outside. They both had an affinity for being able to make plants flourish, much like their mother had.

The greenhouse was also a place that Yuuri would escape to if he ever felt anxious. He would sit himself by the lavender and chamomile and cuddled Vicchan close. It wasn’t really a feeling he could help, but he trusted the natural remedies of the room. After all he grew up with them–but he wasn’t ignorant either. Even as an eight-year-old he knew that it wasn’t the same as visiting the island psychologist. The plants were just an aid, but at twelve he liked to dabble with different plants to create natural medicines. They were really simple things that were easy to make. He made laxatives for Vicchan whenever he got constipated. He learned how to make varying tea blends to soothe stress or for lightening the soul. Minako had taught him that belladonna was a good sedative and used it when he had his bouts of insomnia. He made antiseptics from laurel leaves for Mari whenever she’d hurt herself from running around.

It was just something that came easily to him.

His other favorite room, more for what they use it for than it’s actual purpose, was the dining room. That was where he and Mari grew up learning how to master their abilities. There they also learned of the family craft from gargantuan, archaic looking books filled with centuries of spells. Yuuri typically had the knack of things faster than his sister, which frustrated her greatly.

“I still don’t understand this fire breathing thing,” Mari whined. She collapsed herself over the book and Yuuri shoved her off onto the hardwood table.

“I can’t read the damn book with you on it,” he grumbled, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“It’s not like you need help with it anyways,” she pokes his forehead, causing the glasses to go askew.

“You need to concentrate the energy and blow from the back of your throat,” Yuuri pulls a plain white candle in front of him. “Like this.”

Yuuri levels his mouth to the height of the candle wick and breathes a steady stream of air towards the upright string. Small ribbons of smoke dance from the wick and soon enough a small flame takes it place. The boy smirks, satisfied with his job. Vicchan leans up from the chair he was sitting on and pants excitedly.

“How?” she grabs fistfuls of her hair and slams her head back onto the table. Her brother just snickers.

“Mari don’t do that, you’ll kill more brain cells,” Kanako’s voice rings from the living room.

“Just try?” Yuuri blows out the candle and sets it in front of her. Mari rolls her eyes and sits back up.

“But it’s such a simple skill, what if I can’t do it?” she nervously eyes the wick, still streaming with smoke.

“Well, did you know that your mother was a late bloomer?” Minako appeared from the kitchen and set a bowl of leftover brownie batter in front of the two. Yuuri reached for the spatula as soon as she did and licked one side clean.

“She was more gifted with potions, but water magic came much easier to her than that candle blowing stuff,” Kanako supplies from her seat. Mari glares at her aunt from the corner of her eyes.

“Fine,” she resigns and stares hard at the candle.

“Ish nah gon’ ligh by starin’ ah eh,” Yuuri says mid lick.

“Shuddup, I know!” she frowns at him. “Okay, blow from the back you say,” she reminds herself, rubbing her hands together.

Mari lines her mouth up to the level of the wick, mimicking Yuuri’s actions. She focuses all her energy on the heat circulating her body and releases an quiet stream of air from the back of her throat. Faint trails of Yuuri’s previous flame still lingered during her attempt so it was difficult to determine her success. Surely enough however, the candle wick danced into a little flame. Mari gasped excitedly and slammed her hands against the table. She waved her hands excitedly towards the flame.

“Told ya you could do it,” Yuuri smirks at her, covered in chocolate.

“You have chocolate all over you,” she chides and steals the bowl from him. Yuuri’s expression turns into one of mock offense and swipes some chocolate onto his sister’s nose. The two laugh and quickly clean themselves up. The poodle was awfully fond of kisses so they couldn’t risk anything. Minako smiled at the two as they conversed to each other about their spells. Despite the negativity towards their family, they never ceased passing down the craft for generations. Hiroko would’ve been proud, she thinks.

Her thoughts and their playful banter were interrupted by the sound of nails rapping on the window of the kitchen door. Mari and Yuuri ceased their conversation as Kanako appeared in the dining room with a knowing look on her face.

“Hey kids, go on upstairs and get ready for bed, okay?” the two nod at their aunt’s request and scramble up the stairs followed by the pitter patter of Vicchan’s feet. Minako turns to her younger sister, now standing just slightly behind her.

“You get the book.”

“You get the bird,” the younger scoffs.

Kanako disappears into the living room and Minako makes her way over to the door. She could already tell it was going to be a long night.

“Ms. Popovich, to what do we owe the honor of entertaining you on this fine evening?” she musters up the most polite smile she can find. When people came to the Katsukis for anything, it was never as simple as sharing pie. No one shared anything with them but their troubles.

“Cut it out, I need your help badly. I’m desperate!” the lady gripes. Ms. Popovich was in her mid thirties and unfortunate in the love department. Minako had known her to be a horrible romantic, pining after a married man with a family. It was disgusting really. She refused to accept the reality of him being with another woman without so much as having acknowledged her own existence.

None of that mattered anyway. It was part of the family business.

Minako ushered the distraught woman into the kitchen and sat her on a stool at the end of the island counter. Kanako returned with a different spellbook in her hands–one that the children had yet to see and study from. It was bound in inky black leather, its contents barely contained by binding. The book landed on the counter with a thud and startled their guest. The older witch had exited the kitchen into the greenhouse and reemerged with a white dove in her hands. Kanako turned the pages of the old book and pulled out a long pin that rested in the crook of the page. She handed it over to Ms. Popovich.

“Are you sure you want to–”

“More sure than anything in my life. For god’s sake I’m so desperate I came to you! Why else would I be here!” she cried at them. “He needs to leave his wife. He needs to leave her, and he needs to leave her now!”

“Kana, the money,” Minako ordered since her hands were still occupied by the bird. Ms. Popovich threw a wad of cash onto the table and the sister took it with no hesitation, slipping it into the pocket of her sweater.

“The pin, Mylena,” she ordered again, this time directed to their guest. Her hands tremble–in one hand is the picture of the man she had been so wrongly pining after, in the other a long slender pin nearly the size of her forearm. She kissed the picture and set it down in front of her.

“I want him to want me so bad it kills him,” the woman self righteously declared and stabbed the bird in the heart. She exhaled a breath of relief and handed the pin to Kanako.

“Be careful what you wish for,” Kanako whispered, retracting the pin from the woman’s grasp and catching droplets of blood. Minako sets the dead bird in the middle of the counter and glimpses two sets of eyes on the stairwell. Yuuri and Mari had been there to witness the whole thing, but noticing them didn’t phase her as much as it should have.

It was the family practice after all.

On the stairwell Yuuri huddled into his sister and cradled the puppy in his arms.

“I don’t ever want to fall in love, Mari. I don’t want to love someone and end up like that,” he whimpers into her shirt. Mari just stared at the scene in awe.

“I can’t wait to fall in love,” she whispers. Something dark glimmered in her eyes for a split second. Somehow the whole scene that just played along with the family curse in the back of her mind challenged her spirit somehow. And she was willing to play along with her heart’s game.

 

* * *

 

The greenhouse was full of flora that could be used for spells. With the right combination, anyone with any knowledge of magic had the power to alter fate. Yuuri had seen Minako do it when her business was going downhill (even though it wasn’t as effective as she hoped). She cast a spell with sage, cattails, and chrysanthemums. He’d also seen Kanako do it with chamomile when one of the desperate townspeople begged to save their flu-ridden child. They also used them for charms to bring their vegetable garden bountiful harvests. Yuuri knew the spells worked, so he wanted to try one out for himself.

He had never done one before–at least not alone. He practiced with Mari and the aunts on some occasions because you obviously  cannot learn a skill without practice. They were simple and harmless. He knew how to cast weather spells and ease his anxiety with them. Once he really didn’t want to see one of his classmates after a particularly harsh incident and cast a banishing spell on him with Mari’s help. Said classmate announced his family moving the next day.

He wanted to try a different spell that would protect him this time around, and he didn’t want anyone’s help. He remembers looking through the book aunt Kanako brought down when the aunts helped Ms. Popovich. It wasn’t one that he and Mari were made to study, but it wasn’t difficult to understand why. It was full of spells that were unhealthy and dangerous. They were meant for conjuring things and altering the lives of people so drastically and at a high price. That book also had a spell that Yuuri found curious, and sounded completely harmless despite its intention. It was one that was self-cast–only for the affliction of the caster.

Amas Veritas, the page was titled in faded ink. A love spell that gave Yuuri an unconventional idea. He copied the page notes into a little brown journal he hid in his desk.

_Amas Veritas_

_Jasmine petals_  
_Rose petals_  
_White Chrysanthemum petals_  
_White lily petals_  
Japanese maple leaves

_Best performed under a full moon and a starry sky._

_First write the partner’s desired qualities on paper. It may be written in any format, but the words will be chanted as the ingredients are placed into a large wooden container of sorts._

_There is no set amount of ingredients but be sure to have enough for the spell casted._

_When the spell is finished it can only be cast outside in the night air. Repeat the words “amas veritas” as the petals disappear into the night sky. And such, the spell os cast._

 

Later that night he quietly scampered down the many flights of stairs from his room into the greenhouse with a large wooden bowl retrieved from the kitchen. He had already written his spell prior to descending into the room and opened his journal to the page. It was bookmarked by an arbutus leaf that lightly scented the paper. He plucked the leaf from the crook and placed it into the large wooden bowl as he began wandering around for the ingredients.

“He will be fair like the moon, and his hair silver as the stars,” Yuuri whispers, picking a jasmine flower from its stem.

“And his eyes will be cerulean like the sea and as clear as the spring of our land,” he finds himself smiling as his heart tingles in delight. He places white rose petals into the bowl.

“He’ll be able to dance and love dancing just as much as I do,” he picks lilies.

“What are you doing?” a voice mumbles from the doorway. Yuuri jumps a little but relaxes upon finding his older sister leaning against the glass frame, yawning and scratching her belly.

“I’m casting a love spell called _Amas Veritas_ ,” he sighs wistfully. He suddenly feels far too into this than he should be, considering he is trying to conjure up the man of his dreams. “He won’t ever fail to make me smile, even just by doing something as silly as being able to lick the tip of his nose.”

“I thought you didn’t want to fall in love,” Mari walks up behind him and leans against one of the tables. She props up her head and eyes her younger brother through half lidded eyes.

“That’s the point. I’m basically wishing for a man that can’t possibly exist,” he explains, finding Minako’s white chrysanthemums. “He’ll have a brown poodle, just like my Vicchan.”

“Didn’t know you were into guys,” Mari gives him a dopey smirk.

“Are you surprised?” he laughs a little and adds white camellia flowers into the mix. “And his voice will make me think of warm honey.”

“Hm, well that one kid that stopped to talk to you by the fence was kinda cute,” she yawns again.

“He was giving me the mail. Also I’m twelve and he’s like your age,” he finds the red maple leaves in the corner of the greenhouse and mixes them in. “He’ll be Russian too.”

“Dang, you’re really going all out into this huh?” she chuckles.

“The more impossible the better. What’re the chances of another handsome foreigner coming to the island and whisking away the witch?” he chuckles. “Come outside with me. I’m done with this,” he walks toward the living room and Mari trails behind him. She’s more awake now and silently admires her brother’s determination. He was always really good at the whole spell casting thing. They weave around the island counter and exit the kitchen.

It’s a beautiful night on the godforsaken island. In their four years living with their aunts the two had already developed a sort of island mentality. It was small enough that by their first year living with the aunts they had known every inch of it. But the island was enchanting, they couldn’t deny it. They had partially grown up there after all.

The moon was full and bright above them, littering the land with a peaceful glow. They stepped out into the clearing of their backyard and the wet grass tickled their toes. Yuuri held the wooden bowl out in front of him and Mari stood behind him, curiously watching the ritual.

“ _Amas veritas_ ,” he whispered.

And the petals and leaves rose into the night, never to be seen in their form again.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Arbutus - unrequited love; love for you only  
> * Jasmine - love; sweet nothings  
> * Rose petals - white roses stand for innocence, secrecy, and purity  
> * Chrysanthemum - hope; truth  
> * Lily - white lilies stand for purity  
> * the Japanese maple was purely for aesthetic purposes
> 
> Thanks for the read!
> 
> i live on the hellsite: [y-katsukiis](http://y-katsukiis.tumblr.com/)


	3. Got to Give It Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mari was always too singleminded for her own good and the flowers have a story to tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.k.a. one of the most iconic scenes in this movie (also probably the most unsanitary but hey witches can do whatever the heck they want to, right?)
> 
> This is one of my favorite scenes albeit it being one of the cheesiest. I'm having way too much fun writing this :')

Mari quickly forgot her vow to fall in love. Instead an incessant tugging to explore replaced it. She had a new sense of longing. Yuuri saw it in her the moment she started high school. She began telling him stories about how people lived in cities and went to beaches. She told him about various historical sights and party venues. His sister was never the type to stay still after all.

“When I graduate I’m getting out of here,” she had declared within her first month of high school. He couldn’t really blame her. He’d get away from this place if he could. Well actually scratch that. He loved the island and how it felt like home to him. What he didn’t like was how people treated them. How the other kids treated him and his sister. It was literally the bane of his anxiety, and the island psychologist could only do so much for him.

Yuuri was fourteen when his sister decided that her proclamation meant running away at nineteen. At first he thought she was just as insane as he was and asked her if she needed to be medicated too, but it turned out she was just itching to leave. In a way it hurt him to hear her confess that.

“You know as well as I do that this island is a living hell,” she whispered to him on the balcony of her room.

“It’s not like it didn’t treat us well either,” he pouted into the sleeves his oversized long sleeve shirt.

“Yeah but I’m so sick of everyone treating us the way they do! I just want to get out there where people haven’t even heard our name,” Mari sighed longingly and leaned against the balcony railing. She quickly composed herself and barged back into her room, reemerging with a giant sack full of random belongings.

“You’re seriously going through with this?” Yuuri stared with disbelief at his sister. His only confidant. The only person that understood what he went through because she had to too. Mari threw the sack off the edge and it landed on a bush with a loud rustle.

“Of course!” Mari proclaimed, rubbing her hands together. The sack was mostly full of clothing and a sleeping bag, so she calculated her landing wouldn’t be too difficult.

“You couldn’t have opted for a bag?” Yuuri laughed weakly. She turned to face her brother, only to find him with a contorted look on his face and tears already streaming his face.

“Hey now, I’m not going to disappear forever,” she walked up to him and squeezed his shoulders. She hunched over a bit to meet his eye level, still a little more than half a head shorter than her.

“Kinda feels like it,” he sniffles. Mari sighed, still smiling, and pulled out a pocket knife.

“Here gimme your hand,” she demanded while flipping open her knife. He reached out, staring at her through his glasses with a questioning look. She opened her own palm in front of him.

“What are you–” his question was cut off by a hiss of pain as she sliced a shallow cut in the middle of her hand. Yuuri inhaled sharply. The cut drew a thin strip of blood from her palm.

“My blood,” she gritted. It was Yuuri’s turn to hiss in pain when she dragged the blade across his palm and repeated the action.

“Your blood,” Yuuri stared at the red fluid trickling in his palm. Mari clasped her wounded hand around his own.

“Our blood,” she smiled at him. He stared back with wide eyes. The practice was an act of trust. It was an unbreakable bond that witches would perform in times of need. And Mari gave him all of her trust because she knew he needed it, and he knew she needed his too. Yuuri felt tears prickle the corner of his eyes and he pulled his sister into a tight hug.

“Thank you, Mari,” he cried into her shoulder. The wind howled a little violently and shook the trees in front of them.

“Hey, if anything bad happens you still got that Chulanot kid on your ass, right?” she gives a breathy chuckle into his hair. He can hear her fighting back tears too.

“Phichit? Yeah. I’m starting to think he isn’t like the other kids,” he laughs back.

“That’s good. Give him a chance. That little boy seems to really look up to you,” she pulls back and cradles his face. She fixes his glasses on his nose.

“I’ll try,” he chokes out. Mari kisses his forehead. There’s a lingering gaze that serves as a promise. A promise that he won’t be abandoned. Mari pushes herself up onto the balcony railing and squeezes Yuuri’s hands one last time.

“Alright,” she exhales and breaks the silence, “Don’t tell the aunts!” she stands up still facing the door.

“Maria Katsuki, out!” she salutes and gracefully falls backwards off the railing. Yuuri panics for a split second and sprints to the edge of the balcony. She landed butt first into her sack of items and laughs at his exasperated expression. Mari scrambles to her feet and drags her bag behind her, disappearing into the dark night.

“Idiot, they probably already knew,” he chuckles to himself and softly smirks. He turns back into the house and shuts the doors behind him.

 

* * *

 

The aunts already knew she was going to leave without Yuuri even mentioning she left the night before. The next morning he woke up with the cold realization of his sister’s absence. The air felt different. There was an unpleasant thickness and the heady scent of rain hammered his senses. He willed himself to look around his sister’s room that was now nearly empty. After Mari took off, Yuuri locked himself in her room and cried for what felt like hours. She had barely been gone for a day and he felt lonelier than ever. His thoughts however, were interrupted by tiny scratching coming from the door.

“Vicchan,” he mumbled to himself. He could feel his throat burning from his violent sobbing the night before. Yuuri mustered whatever strength he managed to regain from sleep and pushed himself off her bed. His glasses were safely placed next to his pillow so he needn’t search for them. He was half blind without them.

Mari’s boy band posters still littered the wall. _It’s not like she’d have anywhere to put them wherever she was going anyways_ , he thought. Her wardrobe looked like it had been ransacked but not all her clothes were taken. Most of her CD collection disappeared too along with various bottles of elixirs on her nightstand. She at least took the medicines that Yuuri had made for her the week before and smiled at the thought.

“She’s not as careless as everyone thinks she is,” he reminds himself. Mari may be stubborn and excitable, but she was also a beacon of common sense. Without her he would’ve barely been able to function during his middle school years. He realized then that high school was something he’d have to suffer on his own and the tightness in his chest return.

Soon the scratching turned into whining and quiet barks, reminding Yuuri that he had another friend waiting for him. He perched his glasses on his nose and shuffled towards the door.

“ _Ohayou_ , Vicchan,” the little poodle immediately pounced on his owner, excitedly knocking him over. The dog yips and licks his face. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad as long as he had him around. Yuuri decides it’s in his best interest to face the aunts bickering about Mari’s departure. The leaves were beginning to fall after all, signaling the end of something. He should’ve known that the earthy scent from the vegetable garden meant that it was his sister leaving.

 

* * *

 

High school wasn’t as bad as Yuuri thought it was going to be. Three years earlier a rambunctious Thai boy literally came crashing into his life. As in Yuuri had been cycling down the street one day and the boy was too busy on his phone to realize that he had been warned. Both boys were unscathed but his bike suffered a nasty dent in the spokes. It was about time he’d get a new one for school anyways.

Soon enough, the boy known as Phichit attached himself to Yuuri, constantly apologizing and offering to buy him a new bike or at least a new wheel. The Japanese boy didn’t mind at all. What he was more shocked about at the time was how okay Phichit was with being around him.

“Aren’t you scared of me?” Yuuri asked the younger boy one day. It had already been a couple of years since their accident. The two were frequently seen together since then but the thought still bothered him. Phichit was still thirteen and Yuuri didn’t want him scarred for life because of him.

“Why would I be scared of you?” the little boy questioned innocently. Yuuri grimaced.

“Don’t the other kids treat you differently?” he responds.

“No one talks to me really,” Phichit just shrugs. Yuuri glances at Phichit out of the corner of his eyes. He was staring at the horizon, his legs swinging off the edge of the porch. The younger boy frequented the Katsuki house when school wasn’t in session. He doesn’t seem unhappy though. He swings his leg with a jovial expression and hums something that Yuuri doesn’t recognize. It doesn’t ease the guilt he feels by shrouding the boy in his own reputation. Mari would’ve known what to do.

“That doesn’t matter though. You’re much nicer than the other kids, Yuuri!” Phichit smiles at him. He feels his heart melt at his words and reaches out to ruffle his hair.

“You’re nicer than the other kids too,” he smiles back. _Much nicer than anyone else_ , he thinks to himself.

“Will you tell me more about the flowers in the garden?” Phichit stood up and helped the older boy up. There was no doubt that Phichit had already heard the stories of the Katsuki family considering how small the island was. It was especially hard to avoid if you went to the same school as the Katsuki children. They were wary after all.

The first time Yuuri and Phichit met, the former immediately assumed that he was granted a death sentence by the gods and goddesses themselves. He silently prayed that the worst thing that would happen after recovering was the victim spitting at his feet.

Instead he got a frantic tan-skinned Asian boy switching between Thai and English in his panic. The scene would’ve been comical to anyone else passing by, but to Yuuri it was the most absurd thing that ever happened to him on the island. And that’s even topping the Midsummer Festival his aunts took him and his sister to every year. He preferred dancing under the full moon fully clothed, thank you very much.

From that moment on, Phichit attached himself onto Yuuri. At first the older boy had no idea what to make of it. He desperately tried to get Phichit off his back, half in fear of what Phichit might to do him and the other half was fear that he was just being ignorant and would soon fall target to his bullies.

It seemed however, that Phichit was equally lonely. Yuuri learned that Phichit was an exchange student that lived with his mother in town. He had only arrived months prior to school beginning and he had no real luck with friends either. People on the island tended to ignore all things foreign.

Then the Thai boy learned about the Katsuki curse and pestered Yuuri relentlessly about it.

“Is it really your family?” “Is there really a silver-haired fox that roams the island?” “Is it true that you can’t fall in love?”

“Are you really a witch?”

It was all too much for Yuuri. For once, someone was asking him without hesitation and fear in their voice. This person wasn’t afraid of him. Instead, he was genuinely curious. He could see it in the way the little boy excitedly jumped up and down and clung helplessly onto his arm.

Yes, it was his Katsuki family; no, the silver-haired fox disappeared after Atsuko-sama died centuries ago; no, he had every ability to fall in love but it was dangerous for him to; yes I really am a witch.

Yuuri doesn’t know whether he should regret telling the boy that he was a witch because after that all Phichit ever asked him was how the craft worked. It was no secret on the island that the Katsukis were a witch family, but Phichit being new meant he had no idea what the island lore was actually about. So Yuuri clarified it to him and the questions ceased. He was thankful that the boy quickly realized the weight of the answers. He replaced his curiosity of witchcraft in the natural craftsmanship of it. Yuuri would spend days teaching him about different plants and their magical and healing properties. Phichit grew fascinated by the flowers littered on the property, and Yuuri explained why they were.

“There’s a saying that you should plant lavender by your gate for luck,” he pointed to the purple strands floating around the white gate. “The daisies are for purity. It helps balance the garden energy and keeps the flow positive. That’s why they line the paths.”

“The roses are the only ones that are a little different. Atsuko-sama protected her land, but when she had her child she wanted to reinforce its strength,” he pointed to the violently bright red roses that grew along the fences and around the house itself.

“She grew them by the hair of her silver fox and a drop of her own blood. The fox hair had special qualities that strengthened the spell and her blood ensured that her family–her bloodline–would be protected from any harm. I like to think that they’re why I don’t like leaving the house much,” he explained. They both know it’s because the outside world was never friendly to him.

Phichit stared at one of them in awe. They were impressive in size and its color reminded him of fresh blood indeed.

“I can see that,” he said, lightly caressing one of the velvety petals.

“They are beautiful, and they do their job,” Yuuri laughed lightly. It warmed his heart to see a little boy like Phichit, so innocent and eager, ready to open himself up to him. In turn, Yuuri opened himself to the boy and taught him all he knew. The only downside was that Phichit would never be able to practice any of it. He didn’t have witch blood like Yuuri, so he stuck himself with the plants because that much he could control.

Evening began settling in and the cricket chirping increased. Rain was coming, and it sounded like a hefty shower too. Phichit often stayed at the Katsuki house, practically taking over Yuuri’s room since he moved into Mari’s. Yuuri had transferred her stuff into the attic room, figuring that if she’d ever return she would prefer a larger space to move around in and practice rituals. She was always a more reserved practicer.

“We should head inside. Aunt Minako will need help setting the table for dinner,” he ushers the boy inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like Phichit as the hella extroverted to Yuuri's own powerful introvert. But I also like to consider what if he was just more energetic? Like a mix of both. He just has his moments really.
> 
> * Ohayou - Good morning
> 
> i live on the hellsite: [y-katsukiis](http://y-katsukiis.tumblr.com/)


	4. Black Eyed Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri gets a shot at happiness thanks to a little bit of help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roses will be frequently associated with Yuuri in this fic. They’re also pretty versatile with their meaning so they’re easy to work with.
> 
> I’m not particularly fond of writing angst but here we are! Also I'm not very creative with characters if you can't tell, but a very hot Spaniard makes his appearance.
> 
> * Rose - happiness, love, innocence
> 
> Not beta'd.

“Yuuri! Maria sent another postcard!” Minako hollered from the living room. Kanako sat across from her while nursing a cold glass of lemonade. The straw hung from her lips as she slumped into the old recliner.

“It’s so freaking hot. It’s never been this bad!” she whined.

“And we wouldn’t be in this predicament had younot insisted on flirting with the maintenance guy!” the older sister glares through her spectacles. She was sprawled out on the couch with a mini fan pointed toward her. One leg is draped over the back and 

“The guy was cute and it’s not like anyone ever–”

“Where’s it?” Yuuri yells and slips through the entryway. He lands on his hip and scrambles to get up.

“Easy tiger, I know you graduated just a month ago but the excitement needs to dwindle down,” Minako laughs. Yuuri brushes himself off and launches himself onto the couch in front of his aunt.

“We’re too old for this,” Kanako grumbles, still in the same position. Minako hands the card over to Yuuri as he sits cross legged on the couch. His bright blue polo rides up his side as he adjusts his khaki shorts.

“She made it to Los Angeles,” his aunt smirks.

“No way!” he fumbles with the card. “Wow, she actually made it to the west coast!”

_ Yuuri, _

_ Congrats on graduating! You can now choose to leave that hell hole of an island and travel the world too. Knowing you though, I wouldn’t be surprised if you decided to stay. Get this, I met a group of people right? They’re totally fucking awesome! _

He smirks at her language.

_ Basically they had this huge van right? One of those hippy vans like they used to have in the sixties or some shit like that. They were on this weird spiritual pilgrimage to a Wiccan shrine somewhere in northern California. I didn’t have the heart to tell them they were looking in the wrong place but we stopped so much and had these awesome bonfire parties– _

“So she finally ditched that other group of people? The weird cult of like, something about freemasons?” Kanako finally moves from her spot and sits up in the chair. She places her dripping glass on the end table next to her.

“Coaster,” Minako scolds. Kanako makes an indignant noise but obliges regardless. “Where does she keep finding these people?”

– _ and I’ve really been having a great time. I think Canada next? There’s this Asian tour group that offers bus tours up there in Montreal and Quebec. It might be a nice change of scenery after all this sex drugs and rock ‘n’ roll vibe I’ve been getting over here. _

_ I hope you’re doing well though. Phichit sent me a letter the other day about some guy eyeing you? Maybe there’s interest there ;) _

Yuuri chokes at the comment and his aunts glance at him in confusion.

_ Don’t be afraid to be happy, little brother. I’ve never been this excited in my life! _

_ Lots of love, _

_ Mari _

“So what does Mari say?” Minako digs her toe into Yuuri’s side and he squeals.

“Sh-She’s going to Canada!” he squeaks, shoving Minako’s leg away from him. “Anyways I’m going to walk Vicchan. The sea looks promising today,” Yuuri rises from his position, ignoring the funny looks his aunts are giving him.

“Be safe, Yuu-kun!” Kanako singsongs. Minako smirks at her knowingly as he disappears outside. The door closes with a harsh slam and the bell jingles from the tremors.

“He needs to be happy,” Kanako gives her sister a serious look. Minako places the letter she had been reading down, having long given up on the contents of it.

“He deserves to be happy,” she sits up and removes her glasses. Kanako’s face splits into a shit-eating grin.

A breeze carries the scent of roses through the room and Minako grins back at Kanako. For a pair of forty something hags, they had the exuberance for romance with the likeness of a sixteen-year-old girl.

 

 

* * *

 

“What time is it?” Kanako hisses under her breath. The aunts and Yuuri had been working in the vegetable garden under the sweltering summer heat. Some of the squash and bell peppers had been ripe enough to pick and the conditions deemed it a perfect day to garden.

“Hush!” Minako bites back. She sits hunched over a patch of vines, twisting around the squash plant. “These damn pumpkins need to learn their place!”

Yuuri stood in the far edge of the garden tending to the still green tomatoes. Vicchan seemed content to be bouncing around the paths while chasing a butterfly, skillfully avoiding their plants. He was sweating through his pastel blue button up and sweat plastered his hair underneath the wide-brimmed sun hat. Minako laughed, thinking about how much he looked like Hiroko.

“Any minute now,” she sits up from the patch she was working on. The squash in that area wasn’t ripe enough anyways. Kanako leans against the hoe she had been using and stares at the boy.

The old grandfather clock in their house chimes, striking two in the afternoon.

And Yuuri suddenly gets up and runs.

He’s suddenly filled by an urge to be somewhere. He has to be somewhere. The forces of nature are willing his own legs to move and his lungs cannot keep up with the rapid pace of his heart beating. The flip-flops her wore relentlessly slapped the dirt path then later the asphalt of the old roads. Vicchan trailed behind him, barking excitedly.

_ What the hell am I doing? Where am I going? _ he mentally shrieks. One minute he had been removing insects from the plants, the next he was practically sprinting out the gates looking for something. Looking for someone. He was looking for someone.

_ But who am I looking for? _ he sprints down the sidewalk, heading into town. He sprints past someone that looks vaguely familiar, but his mind is elsewhere and he is a man on a mission.

“Yuuri!” a voice calls out. Looking over his shoulder he sees Phichit, standing still in shock.

“Sorry Phichit, I really have to be somewhere right now!” he turns around, holding onto his sunhat. Vicchan pushes past his friend and nearly trips him over.

“Um, okay I’m going to see the aunts about this rash I have!” the younger man calls back. Yuuri is far to frantic to respond coherently and instead waves without glancing back.

_ Where the hell am I going?  _ Yuuri turns the corner of the street and finds his feet hammering straight towards the farmer’s market.  _ Here? Oh gods, why here? What’s here? What’s– _

“Watch out!” a voice calls. Before he can respond, Yuuri trips over something and lands face first into the chest of an unsuspecting passerby. His dog is no help to the situation either, deciding that it was a wonderful idea to pounce onto Yuuri’s back.

“Vicchan!” Yuuri barked. The dog scampered off to the side, licking his owner’s face. Eventually he realized that whatever he had landed on was soft and took the entirety of his fall. Well, most of it as he winced at the pain shooting through his leg. The mass underneath him groaned.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry!” he scrambled to his feet and offered his hand to the fallen...man?

“Oh,” Yuuri flushed,  _ Oh no _ . The figured groaned and sat up. In all honesty, he was definitely someone Yuuri hadn’t noticed around the island and nearly panicked at the thought of assaulting a foreigner.

“Thanks. ‘S no problem,” the man chuckled. “You’re not the first person to trip over me in this market!”

The man in question had a lovely sun-kissed complexion, mixed with an attractive mop of brown hair and olive green eyes. Yuuri was by no means a short man, but holy hell did this guy seem far too attractively tall. His broad shoulders were framed far too well by the tank top he wore and his legs–don’t even get him started on how ravishingly short his shorts were. Yuuri found himself swooning at the sight.

“N-No, I really am sorry! I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s really not a big deal,” the man stands up and brushes himself off. He smiles at Yuuri, and Yuuri swears he could collapse from the amount of charm he’s exuding. The market goers and vendors begin staring at their outward display of comfort and he felt the panic setting in. Yuuri searches for his dog and calls for him to come back.

“Again, I apologize sir. I promise I’m not here to ruin your establishment–”

“Antonio,” Yuuri jumps at the response. He definitely wasn’t expecting a friendly encounter.

“Excuse me?” he turns to the man, now dubbed Antonio in his mind, and  _ holy shit his accent sounded Spanish _ .

“My name is Antonio Fernandez, but you can just call me Antonio,” he offers a hand to Yuuri. He eyes the gesture cautiously, Vicchan whining behind him. Yuuri decides that the polite thing to do was return the gesture and leave all at once.

“Y-Yuuri,” he awkwardly clasps his hand for a brief second and immediately retreats his grip. Antonio looks at him confusedly.

“Pleasure. Now I’ll just leave you be. Thank you Mr. Fernandez!” he turns around, only to be stopped by his wrist being grabbed.

“I–uh. I didn’t catch your last name?” Yuuri’s eyes go wide as saucers.

“Katsuki,” he mumbles.

“Sorry?”

“Katsuki. My name is Yuuri Katsuki,” he declares, only a little louder. He braces himself for the worst and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Yuuri Katsuki, huh?” Antonio places a hand under his own chin and his eyes wander as though they were searching for an answer. Yuuri opens his eyes at the question and notices that Antonio doesn’t look the slightest bit perturbed by the mention of his name.

“Are you a local?” he looks down toward Yuuri with his brows raised.  _ Crap, he is a foreigner. At least he's not silver haired and blue eyed. _

“The most local person on the island,” he bitingly remarks.

“Ah, I’m still pretty new to the island. See I brought my family business over here because I thought it matched the atmosphere. I thought the selection could use a hit of something, exotic per se,” Antonio supplies. The brown poodle that had been by Yuuri’s side bounded over to the other man.

“What a cute dog!  _ Que lindo _ !” Antonio laughs as he scratches behind the poodle’s ears. Yuuri can’t help but smile at the display of affection. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to make another friend after all.

“If you want I could show you around? I’m guessing you’ve only been to the main square in the town,” he walks up to him.

Antonio smiles so genuine and bright he feels his heart rate kick up three hundred times faster than should be healthy.

“I’d love that!”

* * *

 

In a few months Yuuri finds himself trusting the Spanish man and in turn the Spanish man shows him acceptance. Granted Antonio was still unaware of the status of the Katsuki family nor of the curse that shrouds the family in tragedy, but Yuuri is grateful. He finds himself selfishly wanting to keep that from him longer.

Phichit and Antonio got along incredibly well too. Like the Thai boy, Antonio had a multitude of small animals in his care–specifically a tank full of small turtles. Phichit found it incredibly exciting to have another small animal enthusiast in the wake of Yuuri and his overbearing brown poodle. He tried to argue that Vicchan was a toy poodle, but neither would have any of it.

“If you can’t hold it in the palms of your hand then the animal is far too big” Phichit had declared while shoving one of his three hamsters in Yuuri’s face. Yuuri had pouted the rest of the day. Antonio seemed to think that the best way to cheer him up was with cuddles that greatly startle Yuuri at first. Eventually he grew into the light touches the Spanish man gave him because if gave him physical reassurance. It was the kind of physical assurance he hadn’t had since Mari left.

Mari could run her mouth for days, he remembered. The two of them would sit on either end of the couch with their legs outstretched towards each other entangled. Whenever little Yuuri had a nightmare, his sister would come running to his room and spend the night carding her fingers through his hair. She understood that comforting physical contact was important to him, especially since he was used to the kind that hurt him. She would be there to soothe his bruises and aches from the school kids bullying him. Mari would sit with him in her lap for hours when he felt especially unsafe.

But that was five years ago. He still received hugs from the aunts and Phichit gave his fair share of physical intimacy, but never going past cuddles or hugs. It’s not like they saw each other like that anyway. The Thai boy became something of a little brother to him and he relished the idea of being to Phichit what Mari was to Yuuri.

Antonio on the other hand was all over him with the touching. He cuddled, hugged, caressed, held hands, all of the above. So much that it could be dangerous, but Yuuri didn’t think anything of it. He was happy. So happy. Happier than he ever remembered being and he just wanted to cherish the happiness.

 

 

* * *

 

“I love you.”

Antonio had declared, so seriously and full of determination. The two sat on the couch in the Katsuki living room, with Yuuri leaning against the Spanish man’s broad shoulders absentmindedly stroking Vicchan’s fur.

“What?” Yuuri shot up from his position, startling the poodle. Antonio locked his eyes onto Yuuri’s.

“I said, I love you. I have for a while, and I thought it would have been obvious by now,” Antonio leans in closer and offers a soft smile. Yuuri, however, doesn’t return the gesture.

“You love me?” he whispered.

“Why’d you think I was so touchy?” Antonio gives a breathy laugh. The air is heady with the scent of the fireplace filling the room. He reaches out to Yuuri’s face but Yuuri backs away.

“Are you, like, in love...with me? Like,  _ in love _ in love?” his voice comes out shaky. He doesn’t know whether to be happy or scared. His emotions become an uneasy mixture of both.

“What do you mean  _ in love _ in love, you silly man?” Antonio laughs again. “Of course I’m in love with you, Yuuri! You’re beautiful and caring and kind and no one else is so passionate about plants like you!”

_ No, no, no no no this can’t be. _

Antonio leans in closer and Yuuri stiffens. He’s suddenly so afraid. So very afraid. The firewood cracks behind him and Yuuri shivers. Hard.

“Yuuri, what’s wrong ?” he places a hand on the Japanese man’s thighs.

“You can’t!” he chokes out. Antonio quirks a brow at him.

“I can’t?” he questions. The hand cautiously retreats from its placement.

“You can’t! You just can’t be! Please get out!” Yuuri shrieks and jumps to his feet, startling the Spanish man. He looks visibly hurt, and his heart can’t take it. He can’t take the affection anymore, the light touches and warm laughter, he can’t take being in love or falling in love.

“Wait, why can’t I be?” Antonio suddenly sounds desperate. Yuuri yanks him off the couch and pushes him towards the front door but the man fights back. He twirls Yuuri around by his shoulder and grabs his wrists.

“Yuuri, what’s wrong? Why can’t I love you? You have to tell me! I don’t understand,” he sounds upset, almost angry. He backs Yuuri up into the staircase and tries to sit him down. Yuuri breaks into light sobs.

“You can’t be in love with me! It’s dangerous! You don’t know–” his strangled cries are cut off by the sound of barking. Another harsh shiver runs through him and a vision enters his mind. It’s Vicchan, by the cliff chasing a cricket.  _ No, he’s the one thing I can’t afford to lose _ .

Yuuri bolts up and runs through the kitchen door, Antonio following behind him.

“Yuuri, wait! We’re not done with this conversation!” the man behind him yells. Yuuri can’t bring himself to care. His vision is getting dangerous. The cliff in his mind is at the far end of the garden and is not fenced off. He knows what might happen and he’s terrified.

“Vicchan!  _ Koko ni kite _ !”

He runs down the rocky slope of the edge of the family garden, chasing the noises of the rustling grass. He can’t tell if it’s the wind or his dog but the air blows hard, filling his head with the thought of marigolds. The vision reappears in his mind and he sees his dog bounding down the slope while a toad runs from his mouth. Yuuri freezes, fearful and panicked because his mind is overwhelming him. His knees collapse into the soft earth and he screams.

“Vicchan!”

His voice comes out, strangled and forced.

The dog bounces far too close to the edge, he sees it in his mind. The toad itself is in danger of leaping off the cliff at any given moment. Vicchan kicks up dirt and jumps into the shrubs chasing the toad. Chasing, chasing, chasing.

Until his leg hits a protruding rock and he slips off the edge.

 

Falling, falling, falling.

 

Yuuri can hear the shrieking barks and cries for help, but he can’t tell if it’s his mind or it’s Vicchan himself.

In his mind he sees his dog hit the sharp rocks of the shore beneath.

He sees his dog bounce once off a boulder and land in the water.

He sees the way his legs are mangled.

He sees the way his friend stops barking all together. How he stops breathing.

Suddenly he feels a presence and darts up. Antonio is standing meters ahead of him, but he knows what the man sees. He knows what his vision told him, and he cannot bear the weight any longer.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whee it's nice to know that I can still speak/understand Spanish. I studied it for four years in middle school and high school so I'm comfortable with it.
> 
> * Que lindo - How cute!  
> * Koko ni kite - Come here
> 
> i live on the hellsite: [y-katsukiis](http://y-katsukiis.tumblr.com/)


	5. A Case of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were bound by blood, both as family and through their unbreakable bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments give me life and I'm so glad you guys are enjoying this (/u\\)
> 
> * wormwood - absence; bitter sorrow  
> * rose - in this context, the scent inhibits innocence (aka Yuuri)  
> * cypress - death, mourning, despair, sorrow
> 
> Not beta'd.
> 
> [Chp Edited: 23/04/17]

The next day Antonio leaves the island and Vicchan is cremated.

Once upon a time, the curse had been a silly little story to them. Him and his sister believed every word of Atsuko’s story, but the curse always seemed so far fetched to him. Who would cast a spell, only to be left so lonely for centuries? Atsuko-sama died so that her child could continue living without her burden. But how did that child live? Learn to love?

The child was protected from the curse because they were in her bloodline. But how did this child find someone that was so willing to give themselves to love? To the danger of their mother’s spell? The curse that would haunt generations of their own children, and that they would never find happiness?

Yuuri just didn’t know then, but now he understood.

Loving brought a heavy burden to the heart. He wasn’t strong enough to carry his own weight, let alone that of two souls. He suddenly understood what Atsuko-sama had gone through. He suddenly felt like he himself could’ve been her, weak and heartbroken when he needed someone most. His aunts were present, but provided no real consolation.

Yuuri lay in bed, wrapped tightly under the covers. It had been months since then but it would always cloud his mind. He ceased his interactions with Phichit, only seeing him when the boy came over to see the aunts. He knew they were worried. He didn’t care. He was too scared to care.

He brought his hand to his eyes and traced the scar on his palms. Without his glasses it just looked like a fuzzy streak of white on his hands, but he could feel Mari through it. He could feel her distress but also her joy. It was the only thing that kept him feeling alive anymore. It was their unbreakable bond; an unspoken promise between them. He needed her now more than ever.

Apparently the aunts cast a spell on him. After they confessed to him nearly two weeks after his companion’s death, he wasn’t surprised. He was mad. The dog had been his only other friend since he came to live on the godforsaken island. It hurt having his sister gone and it hurt even more having his best friend taken away from him. Now there was no soft ball of warmth to hold onto at night and no one to enjoy the lavender with him.

He begged them to bring him back. He begged and cried, but they simply wouldn’t.

“I know you can bring him back!” he cried desperately, ransacking the cabinet of spell books.

“We can’t do that, Yuuri,” Kanako stood in the entryway with her hands folded solemnly in front of her. Minako stood in the kitchen, her own face lined with guilt.

“I know you can! I saw it–there’s a spell for that! I saw it when mama and papa died!” he slammed the black book onto the counter and frantically flipped the pages. “There’s a way! I know there is just please–” he choked out a strangled sob. It broke his aunts’ hearts.

“We _don’t_ do that, Yuuri,” Minako emphasized her word. He was stubborn, and far too much so for his own good.

“We just wanted you to be happy,” Kanako tried.

“But I just want my dog back!” he sobbed onto the pages.

“Even if we could Vicchan wouldn’t come back the way he was. He’d be otherworldly and dangerous. There’s no saying what could–”

“No!” he snapped. “I’ve never asked you for anything in my life! Not magic, not spells, not even gifts!” he collapsed onto the table, gasping for air.

“You gotta do this for me! Please! Please!” his words slurred together.

The aunts let him cry through the night and Kanako eventually ushered him upstairs. The months following had been hell to go through. He barely showed himself outside nor did he tend to the gardens he loved so dearly. It became overgrown and unkempt, but he just felt so devoid of life.

Somewhere across the world Mari must’ve heard his call for help, or so he begged desperately.

 

* * *

 

Mari had been walking the streets of Quebec with a group of college kids that night. She ditched the last group of esoteric individuals after learning that they were into some weird veganism cult that tried to initiate her into it by consuming dirt and worms (and not that endearing custard dessert she learned about while in the U.S.). Definitely not in her area of comfort despite being a nature witch herself.

Her current posse consisted of a mix of freshmen college students to even a young professor serving as their “designated driver”–or more so the “designated sober and sane adult.” She may not have gone to college but it didn’t seem highly appropriate for a teacher to go clubbing with their students. Mari ran into the group while backpacking around the city and was invited by the aforementioned professor. Not being one to pass up another chance of immersing herself into a another way of life (college life was somewhere on her list–along with vegan cults and eccentric self-proclaimed wiccans), she graciously accepted the offer.

Which was how she found herself in this unseemly predicament.

The group had entertained her presence in a local bar that they apparently frequented that was owned by one very enthusiastic Canadian family. Their son happened to be one of the students in the group and ordered rounds and rounds of shots for everyone. Mari, while not being the type to drink, let herself go since she was in the presence of company. Said company had already offered places for her to stay while in the country so she saw no harm in going all out that night.

There was a hint of wolf’s bane in the air, and she hadn’t known what to make of it. Nature was the family’s oracle. The breeze would carry predictions and warnings, sometimes the rain would whisper things, but Mari’s sense hadn’t been fully refined. It was Yuuri who knew what the winds warned about or what the water had to give. She on the other hand was skilled at divination. It was difficult to perform without her pendants and cards at hand. The sky was also her guiding force. The clouds would show her things and the sun would create earthly scents that enhanced her abilities. At night, the stars guided her like many other witches were and the moon always told fate. Tonight was unsettling cloudy but there were no signs of bad weather. The cold had been more biting than usually as well and Mari worried for her family.

Partially intoxicated, she stiffened at the hit of the smell and slammed her shot glass down. Her companions were far more intoxicated than her to realize the sudden change in behavior.

“Maria!” one of the students sand and collapsed on Mari’s shoulder. The wolf’s bane was quickly replaced with a distant twinge of cypress.

“Mari-ah!” the drunken student sings louder. Mari suddenly feels less intoxicated.

“Vivian, I’m right here,” she wraps an arm around the girl’s shoulders and sways with her. She reeks of tequila. “Miss Viv, I believe you are plastered to hell right now,” the Japanese snickers.

“Oh, Mari! You should totally,” she hiccups, “Stay here for a while!” she hiccups again.

“It’s a shame you’re only staying for a night. You really know how to have a good time!” the students drawls. The other students are no better and the professor even shows signs of slight intoxication. _At least we walked_ , she thinks to herself. The bar is pretty crowded for a Thursday night but the company is comfortable and she enjoys it.

“She seems tuckered out!” a low voice chuckles. Mari glances at the source behind her booth and finds a man with a sharp jawline and a stunning grin that would have probably melted her eyes.

“Seems like the lot is too, eh?” he quirks a brow and places his hands on his hips. She notices the name tag on his shirt that reads “JJ Leroy.”

“Yeah, they invited me with them and I feel like I picked a great crowd,” Mari smirks. JJ laughs again.

“Let me clear a few glasses for you,” JJ offers. “I guess you’re not from around here?”

“Is it that obvious?” she shoves the giggling woman off her and onto her classmate. The two begin a drunken chorus of incoherent melodies.

“Well we get travellers around here often,” the waiter laughs. She hadn’t realized how much they had to drink until she eyed the tray in his hands.

“So your bar’s a pretty popular place then?” Mari questions.

“Well the students around here like to drag people they find around to local bars. My family owns this place and I work here with my girlfriend,” he explains. “My younger brother frequents this establishment as well, but as you can see he prefers indulging in our services,” he points at the boy at the end of their booth who was swinging a beer bottle around and singing something in French. “Regardless, it brings in business!” he smiles.

“Oh, he did mention that his family ran this place,” Mari picks up her glass again and swirls it slowly. “So I guess you’re his brother then, JJ?”

“Yes ma’am, the one and only!” he laughs.

“It’s a pretty cozy establishment for a college bar.”

“Well, it’s family business!” his steel-blue eyes glint with something that discomforts her for a split second. The words ring through her heart and the scent of cypress hits her again. _What’s with the trees today?_ Mari scowls. JJ notices her change in disposition.

“You okay, miss?” he sets the tray down on the table across their booth and pulls out a rag to wipe up some of the alcohol spills on theirs.

“Y-Yeah,” she stutters. Both her and her brother shared the same anxious habit of stuttering. You’d think they were polar opposites if it hadn’t been for that one similarity. “Oh my name’s Maria, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss Maria,” he smiles at her.

“Just Mari. ‘Miss’ makes me feel old and Maria makes me sound like a saint,” she jokingly chides. She wasn’t an awful person but the aunts would definitely agree that she was no saint either.

“Well you definitely don’t seem the age of a college student, just Mari.”

“Now you’re just being cheeky,” she snorts. JJ picks up his tray and walks off with a nod. She eyes the glass in her hand and downs the shot in one go. The liquid burns in the back of her throat as soon as it makes contact.

Suddenly her thoughts are filled with swirls of wormwood and roses.

“Yuuri,” she whispers.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i live on the hellsite: [y-katsukiis](http://y-katsukiis.tumblr.com/)


	6. Always On My Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Maybe I didn't treat you_   
>  _Quite as good as I should have_   
>  _Maybe I didn't love you_   
>  _Quite as often as I could have_   
>  _Little things I should have said and done_   
>  _I just never took the time_
> 
>  
> 
>  She always meets him where he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being shorter than originally planned but I thought it turned out better in the end.
> 
> I know this is pretty slow build, but believe me Viktor will come soon. Trust me I have an outline for this because I try to thoroughly plan my fics before starting them. Lately it's just been a little harder to write with rehearsals and all and I'm dealing with my own inner demons at the moment.
> 
> Your comments and kudos fuel me to keep writing though!
> 
> * rosemary - memory  
> * wintergreens - harmony  
> * rose water - can act as an antidepressant; I like to think of Mari as something of a jack of all trades but master of none so she makes simple things and does divination for fun (Yuuri is similar but he's got more control than she does over his abilities)
> 
> Not beta'd.

Yuuri wakes up that night to a shuffling in his room. There’s a familiar scent of dried roses, almost like the therapeutic potpourri his sister was known for making.

“Mari?” he whispered, groggily rubbing his eyes and forcing his upper body up. Surely enough she was standing by his bed with a soft smile on her face. Her hair was a little choppier than he remembered it being. The blonde tips don’t go unnoticed either. She held her khaki coat in her arms, her supple body framed by a sleeveless turtleneck.

“Hey, little brother,” she grins widely. She shucks her coat onto the desk in the corner before climbing into the bed next to him. Yuuri moves over slightly to accommodate her as she tucks herself under the heavy quilt. She kept a small distance between them both, knowing that he will approach her when he’s ready.

“I see you took my room after all,” Mari pokes his nose, gently coaxing a smile out of him. It’s the first genuine smile he’s felt himself make in three weeks.

Those last three weeks had left an incredibly heavy weight in his chest. He knew what it was like to lose someone close to him. Their parents died when he was only eight after all and it wasn’t like he didn’t know what his parents were like. But Yuuri had grown up with his dog who was his only friend for years. He felt like he lost a part of himself. He had felt so lost without him or Mari. Phichit didn’t even understand him as well as the aunts had. Despite his estrangement, he didn’t blame Yuuri for his lack of trust. He understood the older boy grew up incredibly guarded because it was what he knew.

Now that his sister was here he felt his loss stronger than ever. He felt in the way she hooked her pinky to his and kissed his forehead like when he was eight. When he was young and still fearful of love. Now he had every right to be afraid since it was  _ love _ that took away his precious companion. Yuuri broke in her arms.

“I was so happy, Mari,” he weakly smiles at her. His expression quickly contorted in anguish and pain and so many other horrible emotions she couldn’t describe. “So happy,” he manages to choke out before sobbing into her arms. Mari can only pull him closer to her and give him the sisterly comfort she owed for being gone nearly six years.

“I know, baby. I know,” she shushes him quietly as he continues to wail in her arms. Her shirt smells faintly of rosemary and wintergreens. He’s so overwhelmed by emotions that he does nothing by cry for almost an hour straight. Mari held him tight and unwavering, quietly humming songs into his raven mop of hair.

Yuuri relishes the feeling of feeling like he was a child again–like he could be back under the protective wing of his older sister. It was as though in that moment he wasn’t a depressed and anxious twenty-year-old man that was too scared to even leave his front yard. For once he felt like he could be vulnerable and safe at the same time.

His sobs begin to slow into short ragged breaths and his sister urges his breathing to steady. Eventually he is reduced to soft sniffles and slow uneven breaths but she’s relieved that he’s able to ground himself again. They lie in silence listening to the gentle night wind as it brushes past the weathering trees outside. She eyes around her old room, now her brother’s.

The posters are no longer there but her furniture is still in its original places. She doesn’t bother asking about what they did with her stuff because Kanako had sent a letter explaining Yuuri’s “takeover” that she found so amusing. He was awfully dependent on her as a child and spent most of his nights in her room anyways. It only felt right. Plus the room is much neater than it had been when it was hers. Still, it was so surreal to the young woman that the last time she was in this very room she was leaping off the balcony into the bushes. Funny how life works out that way.

“I was in Canada before I decided to come back,” Mari suddenly asserts. Her tone is playful and serene and it’s enough to pull Yuuri out of his sister’s tear stained shirt. She looks back down at him, still smiling softly.

“These college kids picked me up and took me to a local bar. It was actually pretty quaint and cozy,” she mumbles into his head. Yuuri’s breaths continue even out as he listens. “One of the students was actually the son of the owners and I befriended his older brother while I was there. I think he’s actually just a little younger than you, so I’ll probably go back to visit.”

Yuuri hums in acknowledgment but says nothing else.

“I was planning on going farther west to Alaska, but the winds told me coming back home was a better idea,” Mari cards her fingers through his hair. Her brother inhales deeply and sighs. He pushes slightly away from her, still avoiding eye contact but he feels her eyes on him. It’s not a threatening kind of stare–rather an encouraging one. She always meets him where he is.

“There was this newcomer,” he mutters silently. “His name was Antonio and he came all the way from Spain,” he smiles softly. Mari’s hand stills in his hair and travels down to rub his shoulders. Her other hand reaches for one of Yuuri’s own.

“Honestly, you probably would’ve drooled all over him. He really was something to look at,” he gives a breathy chuckle. “You probably–no you  _ would _ ’ve been jealous of me because there wasn’t a moment he didn’t try to throw himself on me,” Yuuri finally lifts his head to face her. His eyes were still avoiding hers but that wasn’t new. She could see the dark bags from crying all night and how his brown eyes glinted red in the dim lighting. He looked so vulnerable that she instinctively squeezed his hand and pulled it close to her heart. She felt so guilty for leaving him alone for so long. Her own anxieties cloud her thoughts and she wonders what could’ve been if she stayed for him.

“Don’t feel guilty now,” he smirks softly. Her eyes widen in shock when Yuuri’s eyes finally meets her own honey colored ones. “I had my fun while you were away.”

“You know me too well,” she retorts. Yuuri pulls back into her embrace.

“Well that’s what happens when you’re bound by blood,” he whispers. She knows he’s right. Their senses had always been keen to each other, frequently complementing their powers. Their unbreakable bond just added to its strength.

“Anyways, he was also a beautiful person. Incredibly sweet and charming. Y’know he and Phichit got along really well too! You should’ve seen how they fawned over each other’s pets. Never saw so many little turtles in one tank,” he laughs again but his voice cracks.

“But he fell for me, Mari. He said he loved me and I–I just knew something bad was going to happen,” he stuttered. She moved her hand to his back, rubbing circles over his shoulder blades.

“I should’ve listened to the aunts,” Yuuri hiccuped. “I should’ve listened to Atsuko.”

“You couldn’t have known, Yuuri,” she whispered as her thumb brushed the tears trailing down his cheeks again.

“Still,” his hands clench the front of her shirt, “It hurts so much, Mari,” he angled his head to face her. His face was streaked with tears and his nose was runny.  _ He was always an ugly crier _ , she thought to herself and smiled fondly.

“I can only imagine,” she holds him again. This time she at least gets him to stop crying sooner. The silence is filled with his sharp intakes of air and her deep, steady breaths.

“I was thinking of leaving the island,” he finally mumbled into her shirt. It was odd coming from him. Yuuri, who was so passive and fearful of leaving the confines of their protected home. The young man so afraid of how people would treat him for being different.

“What brought this on?” his sister asked incredulously. It sounded more shocked than she would’ve liked but it was definitely a surprise to her own ears. She shifts under the quilt to face him. Her brother sheepishly meets her gaze once again.

“You were so ready to leave and find places where people hadn’t even heard our name. I wondered what it was like,” he admits. Mari’s mouth drops at his sudden proclamation.

“But you were always so afraid of leaving? Don’t get me wrong, Yuuri, I still support your decision. But are you sure you want this?” she questions. Mari has no idea how this will affect his anxiety.

“They probably have better specialists on the mainland,” Yuuri states matter-of-factly. “I, uh, also wanted to study business and open a flower shop.”

“A flower shop?”

“Yeah, because there are so many flowers with healing abilities to share. I’ve actually been going to the market while you were away to sell some to the vendors,” he explains as he sits up. Mari gets up as well and makes her way to the fireplace on the opposite end of the room. “That was actually aunt Kanako’s idea.”

“Do you remember what happened to aunt Minako’s studio?” Mari quirks a brow at him. She crouches in front of the fireplace and rests her hand on the log inside. The wood slowly crackles to life, supplying soft lighting and warmth to the cold room. She sits cross legged facing the bed and Yuuri turns to the foot of the bed to lie on his stomach.

“Phichit would help me, but I want to go to study business for a bit. Aunt Mina’s business probably didn’t do too well either because she had no experience in running one to begin with,” he notes. She nods in agreement, though still complacent about his decision.

“Well if that’s what you want then I’m not going to stop you,” she smiles fondly at him, “I’ll support you regardless, little brother.”

He smiles back at her.

“So you said you met a guy in Canada?” he probes at her.

“I met a bunch of guys in Canada,” she snickers. “But I guess the only one I actually formally met was JJ.”

“JJ?”

“Jean-Jacques Leroy,” she crosses her arms.

“What kind of name is that?” he scoffs.

“A French one, I guess.”

“No offense, but he sounds kind of pretentious,” Yuuri rolls onto his back, dangling his head over the foot of the bed.

“Kinda. Though he was a pretty nice guy. He offered me a free drink or two because I was far too sober for my original company.”

“What was the U.S. like then?”

They continue to converse late into the night, mostly about Mari’s adventures in the outside world. He asks her what it’s like for other people to have no idea who she is and she responds by saying it was the most exciting thing she had ever experienced. No one ever questioned her, and some even thought her divination powers were slight of hand. She told him how amusing it was to watch normal people mimic their own practices–some of which were horribly inaccurate.

Yuuri in turn explained his plans for going to school. There was a college on the mainland that happened to be near a witch-friendly community according to the aunts. He wouldn’t have to worry about being well known because apparently other witches there had more impressive reputations than their family did. He thought it would also be refreshing for him to experience a new environment and the aunts were surprisingly supportive when he had suggested it initially.

By the time he dozes off it’s nearly three in the morning. He believes he heard the balcony door opening and closing but was far too consumed by exhaustion to acknowledge the action.

 

* * *

The next morning he wakes up to a bowl of rose petals in water and no trace of his older sister in sight.

He feels lighter than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i live on the hellsite: [y-katsukiis](http://y-katsukiis.tumblr.com/)


	7. If You Ever Did Believe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which his fate is altered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was probably one of my favorite chapters to write!! ( ´♡ ` )
> 
> * kotenok - kitten  
> * zaichik - bunny

A month later Yuuri manages to enroll in the community college on the mainland with encouragement from the aunts and Phichit. They’re ecstatic to see him happier and healthier since Mari’s visit. In fact they’re just glad he managed to get out of bed at all. He had locked himself in his room for weeks, barely acknowledging the presence of his own family lingering in the house. Phichit had tried on numerous occasions to coax his friend out of bed to at least walk in the gardens. Despite his efforts he never managed to get farther than sitting on the bed and talking to him. They had almost lost all hope with him until Mari came back that night.

Minako and Kanako had known that she would come to Yuuri’s aid. That was just how they were; one could not be without the other. They were always in awe by how strong their brother-sister bond was and were incredibly grateful for it at the same time. The younger aunt knew it was only a matter of time before she came around. Minako had been skeptical at the idea simply because Mari had been traveling so much. Nevertheless, she’d heard his call and promptly responded to it.

It was thanks to her that their nephew was finally able to return to a relatively normal state of functioning. He was still sad no doubt but his energy had been replenished. Yuuri was nearly back to his old self. It was still painstaking to watch him go about his old chores in the house. The air around him was still heavy and they all knew his smiles were feigned. So when he approached the aunts about leaving the island, they were more than happy to oblige.

“Of course, you should go to the mainland!” Minako slammed her hands onto the island counter as she stood up. The action startled Phichit but Kanako remained unfazed.

“I agree. Having a higher education is never a bad thing either,” the younger aunt replied nonchalantly. His friend on the other hand was still trying to understand what was going on.

“But you never even want to leave the house to go to the freaking market for groceries!” he slammed his hands onto the table as he stood from the chair. Yuuri knew Phichit was just trying to be protective of him, but his friend had a point. He struggled with his daily activities just because of the incessant nagging paranoia of leaving their protected home. There was no real magical threat on the island, but the normal people posed a greater threat to his own sanity. It scared him to no end.

Yuuri turned to his friend with a sad smile. Yes he found it difficult to leave home in general. It hurt him to think about leaving him and his family behind, and it especially hurt to think about leaving the home he had grown up in. Part of it felt like betrayal but part of him also had that sense of longing Mari had when she was a teenager; and they were related after all. At twenty-five, Maria Katsuki had travelled nearly half the globe to thirty something countries, all either by foot or local transportation. She obviously had no money for fancy flights and frequently lodged with locals that would accommodate her. Yuuri laughed at the image of his sister in a village in the middle of nowhere, somehow managing to fit in despite being as foreign as foreigners get. It also brought an uncertain warmth in his heart. _Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea after all_ , he had thought to himself one night. She was his beacon of common sense and common sense reasoned that humans were a wandering species. We were built to move whether we preferred it or not. He grew restless by the day after his sister left and eventually caved into the little voices in his mind.

“I want to see the world like Mari did,” he responded so solemnly that Phichit stared at him agape. Yuuri couldn’t define the expression on his face–a mixture of surprise and trepidation. “I mean, I’m a grown man and I can’t keep sitting on my ass forever like a kid, right?” he looked towards the aunts. Kanako nodded thoughtfully and Minako smirked at him.

“You got guts, kid,” she snorted. “We’ll fund your trip to the mainland. And you better get something out of the whole ‘college experience’ that Mari kept rambling about in one of her letters,” she added with her fingers mimicking quotation marks. Yuuri beamed at her.

“You won’t regret it!”

 

* * *

 

The mainland was not at all like he remembered it. His parents died when he was barely eight and Mari thirteen. She probably had more memories of their birth town than he did despite having not been there in over a decade. It was certainly more busy than Yuuri would’ve liked but it was also nothing he hadn’t expected.

Hasetsu was a small town but still bigger and more modern than their own community on the island of Tsushima. His only memory of the town had been the hot springs their family once owned but was shut down after Hiroko and Toshiya’s passing. The business was also failing so there was no point in leaving it to an eight- and thirteen-year-old that could barely comprehend their own precarious situation.

Upon arriving in town, the first thing Yuuri noticed was how crowded it was. There were people bustling everywhere in the main part of town. The marketplace was heavily busy with vendors and shoppers. The buildings also looked run down and clamored. The ones on Tsushima were definitely old and rundown as well, but the ones in Hasetsu looked old with neglect. In the more rural parts where the people resided it was more quiet and reminded him of his own neighborhood. He found it strange how most of the living quarters were so close to each other and there were few houses that were far apart. The Katsuki house was a decent mile or two from the closest homes, then again their case was slightly different than most people's.

The other thing he noticed was that no one payed attention to him. It wasn’t something that would typically bothered him per se, but it was more the realization that _no one cared who he was_. Was this the feeling his sister had been pining for all along? Is this what it felt like to be a normal human being for once? Unnoticed? Free to go about business without being insulted for being a heretic? Were witches unknown to these people? Suddenly so many of his questions were answered. He quickly realized that anything supernatural was considered a myth or urban legend in these parts. Most people didn’t even pay mind to the actual witches lying around.

As a witch, it wasn’t difficult to discern his kind from the normal people. They carried an aura around them that made their energy obvious–both elemental and spiritual. The apartment complex the aunts had found for him was actually run by another old witch, Madame Odagaki. She had a gift for nature, like he had, and had quickly bonded over it. He learned that she knew who his mother was and thought that he and his sister had also fallen victim to the accident. She was incredibly relieved to see his face.

“Did you come back here to find the onsen?” she questioned him one night when he was invited for dinner. At that point he already started attending the local college and was adjusting to this new lifestyle eagerly. He found it easier to go about his business when no one minded his own. Ironically enough it was probably the most magical feelings he could describe despite it being the least magical thing to occur to him.

“No, I’ve actually been attending community college. I only started a month ago but I’m finding it easy to blend in,” he replied. The old lady nodded.

“That’s good. Toshiya went to that school too, did you know?” she said.

“My dad? Really?” he slammed his chopsticks down. The lady startled and he apologized for his brashness. She merely laughed it off.

“Oh my child, your family was well known here at one point,” she stated. And as if she felt his unease at the topic, she continued with “They were well known for their onsen. It was the last one running here. People loved going to the bar and there were even murmurs about the water being magical! Can you believe that?” she laughed.

Yuuri smiled at the warmth in her voice. To be known for something that wasn’t death and misery, he wondered what that was like. Here he could feel it. He could understand why his mother left the island in the first place. The town was nice and easy to get around. People never bothered him and his school was fantastic as well.

There was also a small witch community in the area. It wasn’t obvious, but they made their connections in times of need like a hotline of sorts. It worked like the phone tree Yuuri’s old school used in case of emergencies. The elders would be the first to know of a situation and would pass down information to business owners and families.

After a year he was familiar with all the common folk in the area. They were also ignorant to his family curse and he was forever grateful for it. He felt like a different version of himself–one that didn’t dwell on paranoia and fear.

It was the most refreshed Yuuri felt in a year.

 

* * *

 

He hadn’t intended to stay too long for his business degree. In fact he just wanted to learn enough to start a business and it wasn’t that difficult to start one up in his hometown. He relented having to leave his new sense of anonymity, but he came here for one reason and one reason alone.

But one reason turned into two–technically three–in just one evening.

Here’s how the evening went down:

Yuuri’s day went on as usual. He had opted to walk home after his classes that day because the wind drew the breath of roses to him–sign of promise. His route took him past the convenience store with the nice park next to it. On nice days or nights he would buy food from the store and watch the children play. Even now his heart clenched at the sight of them playing. Memories of the way he was treated growing up would resurface every now and then, but watching them filled a void that was caused by those memories. He watched them run around with not a care in the world and for once he could sit there knowing he would no longer be bullied. He could also now sit and enjoy the innocent scene without their parents glaring at him and ushering their kids away.

Yuuri loved children and envied their ignorance. He hadn’t had the privilege of ignorance as a child. But that was in the past and none of that mattered now. He was here now, in a different town where no one had even heard his family name and the words “witch” or “curse” in the same sentence.

He found himself sitting on his usual bench underneath a tree by the playground late in the afternoon. Usually he would be sitting alone but as the months went on he found that he was enjoying the presence of others. Some of the parents acquainted themselves with him on occasion and he enjoyed the companionship. They would sit on the bench and sometimes even offered Yuuri food. Acquainting with the parents also meant that he began to befriend the children as well. He was at least known enough in this little park to feel comfortable sticking around. Sometimes he would bring a book and read, enjoying the weather outside. He was doing exactly that at the very moment and enjoying the cool late afternoon breeze.

But something had abruptly grabbed his attention. There was screaming and yelling, the kind that you’d expect to hear from a group of little kids, but the screaming and yelling quickly morphed into cries. He slammed his book onto the bench and turned to the source.

Definitely a group of children somewhere near the shrubbery, but he could see two children in the middle of it lying on the ground. They were no doubt pushed because the tone of the other children crowding around them. He took the sight as an urge to act and sprinted across the lawn towards the bushes. Yep, definitely not child’s play.

“Freak!” one of the bigger boys chided and kicked dirt towards the smaller one with blond hair. The other slightly taller boy with darker blonde hair hides behind him, crying into the smaller’s shoulders.

“Go away! We not fweaks!” he yells with a surprising force for such a small child.

“Then explain why shrimp shit back there keeps setting things on fire! You’re dangerous!” another girl scoffed.

“We’re not–” the little boy is cut off by another boy yanking him by the hair. The taller boy starts shrieking as someone else yanks him by the arm. The force sends him face planting into the rough dirt.

“Hey!” Yuuri yells. He yells out of anger and disgust because the situation is all too familiar. All of a sudden he feels in control, and that’s something he didn’t have the luxury of coming by when he was that small.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he questions angrily. The children turn and gape at the young man running towards them.

“Answer me! What are you doing?” he repeats and stands between the two little boys and their offenders.

“They were–”

“I don’t care what _they_ were doing! That _does not_ give you the right to hurt them!” Yuuri scolds. The smaller boy runs over the the taller one, holding him close. Yuuri walks towards them shields them protectively with his arms.

“Where are your parents?” he asks, but it sounds more like a demand. None of the children reply and he loses his patience.

“If you won’t tell me then leave right now before I go looking. You will leave these two alone and I will never hear or see any of this ever again, do you understand me?” the children reply with a nod and weak “yes” before running away from them.

He looks down to the two little boys in his arms. Neither of them look like they could be older than eight or nine. The taller one has his arms wrapped around the smaller one tightly and the action is reciprocated. It hurts him to see this. He suddenly feels very much like the eight-year-old on the little island that was threatened and beat by the other children. The taller one continues his quiet sobbing but the other keeps his face silently buried in his friend’s shirt. Yuuri backs away cautiously, keeping his eyes on them the whole time.

“Are you two alright?” he asks quietly. The taller one stirs and looks at him.

“P-Please don’t hurt us!” he squeaks and holds the little boy tighter. Yuuri can see his little fists balling tightly at the red fabric of the older boy’s shirt that his dirtied knuckles turn white. He can hear soft whimpering.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Yuuri replies softly. The taller boy suddenly looks confused.

“You’re not angry at us?” he whimpers softly. The young man shakes his head and tries his best at a reassuring smile. It seems to work because the two soften their grip on each other. The little boy peeks a green eye over his shoulder.

“No, I’m not angry at you. Those kids were being very mean,” he notes. The boys whimper again and Yuuri reaches his arms toward them.

“Come here,” he urges. The two suddenly fling themselves at him and hold on with a possessive grip. It’s as if they didn’t want to let go, or more so scared of doing so. Yuuri hears the little boy hiccup and he gently smooths the hair on their heads.

“Shh, you’re okay now,” he hushes them gently. They sit there for a while, the young man trying to calm both of them down before urging them to move again.

“Will you tell me your names?” he asks. The smaller one looks to the taller as if to ask if he can be trusted.

“My name is Kenjiro,” the taller one mumbles, barely enough for Yuuri to hear, “This is Yuri, my little brother,” little Yuri grabs Kenjiro’s hand slowly. His eyes are still downcast but Yuuri can feel his energy. It’s focusing on the plants that had been trampled by the other kids’ rough housing.

“My name is also Yuuri,” he smiles softly at the two. Yuri looks up at him with something akin to wonder in his eyes. It’s suddenly very clear to Yuuri that these two are not used to such kindness.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Yuuri adds quietly.

“Nice to meet you too,” Kenjiro replies. His eyes are downcast and blatantly avoiding Yuuri’s stare. Yuri on the other hand is still staring at the young man.

“Where are your parents? Are they near by?”

“None,” little Yuri mumbles.

“What?” Yuuri gasps. He suddenly regrets the sharpness of his tone but the little boys seem unphased.

“No parents,” Kenjiro reiterates. Yuri nods at him and frowns slightly.

_They’re all alone? But how?_

“We stay at Kolya _ji-chan_ ’s house. He takes care of us,” he states as though he were referring to them as a different species altogether.

“You guys?”

“ _Ji-chan_ says we’re diffewent,” Yuri replies. Yuuri finds his little speech quirk adorable and softly smiles at him.

“How so, Yuri?”

“Magic,” he replies. The young man gapes at him. Kenjiro’s eyes remain downcast and turns his head in something that he reads to be shame. The tightness in his chest returns and suddenly he can’t bring himself to leave these two alone.

“How funny, I seem to be different too,” Yuuri laughs lightly. “How about you I walk you back to Kolya _ji-chan_ ’s house then?”

Yuuri lets the little boys help him up and guide him by his hands. He’s in awe at how familiar they are with the intricate alleyway system farther into town. He also began recognizing the area as the fabled “witch district.” The area had a reputation for urban legends so it only made sense that it was were the magical denizens lived. His own apartment was on the other side of the area, not far from the witch district but still a good two train stations away.

As the evening grew he noticed how the alleyways changed and physically manifested into a lively sight. Vendors began opening more and more stalls and crowds of people trickled out from other entrances.

“ _Ji-chan_ calls it the night market,” Kenjiro remarks as though he were reading Yuuri’s mind. The little boys kept their grip tight on him and continued weaving through the passerbys.

“I’ve never seen this place before,” he exclaims.

“Onwy on Thuwsday nights,” little Yuri mumbled.

“Makes sense,” Yuuri replies. “So where does Kolya _ji-chan_ live?”

Little Yuri tilts his head up and locks his bright green eyes on Yuuri’s own dark brown ones. He doesn’t fail to notice the swirl of energy in his irises but opts not to pry and discomfort the children. The little boy points ahead of them towards a tall old shack nestled into the walls of the other buildings. It looks about ready to collapse on itself and Yuuri can’t help but wonder how anyone can live in such a state. _That couldn’t possibly be safe, right?_ he swallows at the thought.

Soon they reach the building and come face to face with a door that looks like it’s about to fall off its hinges. There’s an old unlit candle lamp next to it. Beside that is a large window that’s layered with dust and covered by lace curtains. Kenjiro lets go of his hand and approaches the lamp, conjuring a stone to rise from the ground underneath it. He carefully climbs it and opens the latch of the lamp. Yuuri’s eyes widen when he realizes that the little boy is blowing fire into it. It’s something he hadn’t seen since he used to practice it with Mari as kids.

The door creaks open and Kenjiro lets himself in while little Yuri pulls Yuuri behind him. The door shuts on its own, startling the young man.

“Kolya _ji-chan_ , _tadaima_!” Kenjiro belts out. Almost as soon as he yelled out thunderous thumping noises were heard above his head. There were collective giggles and hushed whispers as the noises approached the rickety staircase to their left. Pots and pans were heard banging from the kitchen that appeared just dead ahead of them. For a building that looked incredibly decrepit and ancient on the outside it was unbelievable warm and homely on the inside. It reminded Yuuri of his own house back on the island. The thought brought a small smile onto his face.

“ _Kotenok_! _Zaichik_! You’re back!” a gruff voice booms warmly from the kitchen. Not long after a figure appears in the narrow entryway of the kitchen. Yuuri can vaguely make out his image with the dim lighting of the hallway contrasting with the bright lights in the kitchen. He’s stocky and only a little shorter than Yuuri himself. There’s a comforting aura around him and the scent that lingers in the air is akin to a cinnamon and clove mix.

“Oh, you brought guests!” he exclaims and he clasps his hands together loudly. The man quickly shuffles back into the kitchen while untying his apron. Yuri lets go of his hand and he and Kenjiro scramble up the stairs to the sources of the whispers. The old man reappears from the kitchen and walks over to Yuuri, who awkwardly stands in the middle of the hallway.

“Thank you for walking the boys back. I know there can be...troubles from time to time,” the man smiles fondly at Yuuri. There’s a thick accent in his voice that sounds slavic. He sticks out his hand to the younger man and he responds by shaking it timidly.

“Not a problem at all!” he manages to sheepishly smile back.

“My name is Nikolai, but you may also call me Kolya if you please,” Kolya retreats his hand and rubs it off on his pants. “Sorry, I was making dinner for the children. Stay, won’t you, Yuuri?” he asks.

“How do you know my–”

“Broom fell,” Kolya cuts him off before he can inquire any further. “Also, Madame Odagaki is a wonderful conversational partner.”

“Ah, makes sense,” he nods, looking to his feet. The old landlady did spend more of her time gossiping to the other elders than anyone would like.

Out of the corner of his eyes he notices little movements coming from the staircase. He turns his head slightly and finds the two little boys along with a few other children. They’re all giddy and whispering amongst themselves. Little Yuri was crouched on his knees and observing silently. Yuuri smiles at the children and they quickly scramble back up the stairs. Kolya lets out a hearty laugh.

“Don’t mind the children. They’re very excitable,” the elder shakes his head. “They don’t get visitors as often as I’d like them to, and not all of them are kind upon first meeting.”

There’s something sad in his smile and he looks almost hopeful.

“Would you like to come into the kitchen and sit? We don’t have a lot of space, so we dine there,” he explains.

“Of course, that’s perfectly fine,” Yuuri smiles kindly to Kolya and follows him into the kitchen.

The room is surprisingly big for the narrowness of the lot. The walls are painted a soft pastel yellow–the kind that was comforting to look at–and brought brightness into the room. In contrast to the peeling burgundy wallpaper from the hallway and the forest green he could see in the living room, this room was definitely the brightest. The counters lined one side of the room and was heavily stocked with various tins and jars. Pots and pans hung from the ceiling and the windows were lined with herbs that he had in his own kitchen at home. There was a long dark oak table on the other side of the room lined with benches on both sides. From its size he could deduce that there were at least ten of the little children living here.

“Come, sit,” Kolya ushered him to the end of the table where a small stool hid. Yuuri sat himself down and stared at the other side of the kitchen. The hallway looked incredibly dark in contrast to the current room. There were also faded pictures lining the entryway and an old clock hanging above.

“Your kitchen is wonderful,” he breathes.

“It’s not much really,” Kolya chuckles.

“It reminds me of the one in the house I grew up in.”.

“Well, I’m very flattered, son,” Kolya replies as he hunches over the stove. He carefully handles a saucepan with and old are and pulls out a pair of metal tongs. Yuuri sees him carefully shovel out what looks like deep fried pastries onto a large plate. He hadn’t realized how long he’d been out until his stomach grumbles in anticipation.

“So where did you find them?” the old man breaks the comfortable silence.

“They were at the, uh, park,” he hesitates a bit.

“I figured as much,” Kolya picks up the platter and walks over to the table. He sets it down in the middle and sits next to Yuuri on the corner of one of the benches.

“You know about this?” Yuuri can’t help but ask. It’s been eating at him all evening.

“It’s hard not to when you’re the only one they have,” he replied solemnly. “These children, they’re orphans. They’re of our kind too.”

“Witches?” Yuuri questions. Kolya only grunts in response. “A witch orphanage?”

“You sound surprised,” the old man raises an eyebrow.

“The island where I come from is small. We’re the only witches there so even this whole area is somewhat of a wonder to me. It’s so...safe,” Yuuri explains. He didn’t have the luxury of knowing that there was more than just the close-minded people of the little island.

“I see,” he hums in reply.

“So Kenjiro and Yuri are witches then?”

“Indeed they are. They do have a reputation for getting in more trouble than the rest though. I like to think it’s because they’re the only ones brave enough to go past our little safe haven but it’s also thanks to their uncontrollable powers. They’re young you see, and clearly very gifted.”

Yuuri remembers the way little Yuri’s eyes glowed at him, like there was life radiating inside him.

“Yuri’s gifted with flora and Kenjiro’s gifted with fire?” he questions again.

“Yes, our Yura is very in touch with plants. Animals too actually. Kenjiro on the other hand is very prone to causing spontaneous combustion all around,” Kolya chuckles and Yuuri can’t help but grin. He can tell the old man cares for the children deeply by the expressions he makes when he talks about them.

“I could feel their energies but I didn’t want to scare them off,” Yuuri replies.

“Thank you, Yuuri,” Kolya smiles warmly at him. His accent comes out thick and Yuuri can’t stop himself from wondering.

“You’re not from here either I assume?”

“The accent gave it away, didn’t it?” he chuckles. “I came from Russia a long time ago. I was studying different magical cultures until I came here and, well, at the time things were a little different. You’ll find that there aren’t many orphanages that take kindly to our children,” his eyes betray the fond look on his face. He looks deeply hurt and saddened and Yuuri can only imagine why.

“Well, I think these pirozhkis are cool enough to eat so I’ll call the little ones to dinner.”

The old man stands up and makes his way to the entryway. He leans on the frame, yelling for the children to come downstairs and eat. The thunderous sound of footsteps returns as the excited screams and giggles fill the hallway. Kolya laughs as the children start streaming in excitedly. Most of them look to be the same age. Yuri appears to be the youngest and there’s two that look like they could be in their early teens.

“ _Ji-chan_ who’s the handsome guest?” one of the teens grins and bounces over next to Yuuri. Some of the other children join in and flock him as well.

“Hey now, don’t be rude! Give our guest some space, Mila!” he scolds. The girl pouts and backs off.

“We never get cute boys around,” she huffs. Yuuri giggles in response.

“He is also an adult, _lapochka_ ,” Kolya retorts.

“Where are you from?” a little girl leans on his lap.

“What’s your name?” another one chimes in.

“Whoa, that’s a lot of questions!” Yuuri sheepishly grins and raises his hands as a weak defense. “Well, my name is Yuuri–”

“Yura he has your name!” a boy exclaims loudly. Yuri pouts and grabs Kenjiro’s hand.

“He’s not fond of all the children,” Kolya explains. The young man nods in response and looks toward the little boy.

“How are you feeling, Yuri?” he asks. The little boy glances at him.

“Fine,” he mumbles.

“And Kenjiro?” the young man asks the taller boy.

“Fine too,” he smiles widely. Yuuri notices he’s missing a tooth and finds their display awfully endearing.

“Those two are really close, aren’t they?” he asks the older man. Kolya makes his way to the other end of the table and slides out another stool.

“They came together, so they’ve been attached by the hip since day one. Time to eat kiddos!”

The meal was simple but Yuuri thought that it was the best food he ever had in his time in Hasetsu. It was a nice change in his cheap diet as a college student. He frequently lived on take out and greatly missed his aunt Minako’s cooking. This, however, made up for all the years he missed of it. It was a delicious and homely meal. There wasn’t a silent moment at the table. All the children had something to say to Yuuri whether it was questions or stories. Kolya even indulged him in a few of his own stories of the children.

When dinner ended all the children shuffled out neatly from the kitchen. It surprised the young man since they came crashing in so quickly. Kolya explained that he once yelled at them for causing a mess because of their disorder and devised a way of keeping things clean. Yuuri counted nine children shuffling out of the kitchen until he felt someone grabbed his hand. When he looked down he found little Yuri holding his hand and Kenjiro standing behind him, still avoiding eye contact. He noticed it was something he did frequently.

Yuuri offered to help Kolya clean the kitchen but was declined in favor of keeping the two little boys company. The old man was surprised that they already had an attachment to him. The group shuffled out of the kitchen, his hand still held by the little blond boy. He was led into the forest green room and sat himself on the couch in front of the fireplace. Yuri sat himself in front of Yuuri and leaned against his legs. Kenjiro sat himself next to the young man and locked his gaze into the dark firebox. Crackling noises came from the wood inside and the log burst into flames. The boy next to him blinked his eyes twice and focused his gaze back on the ground.

“Kenjiwo makes fiyah. I make pwants,” Yuri nudged his legs. The young man glanced downward and found the little boy staring at him over his knees.

“Kenjiro is very good with fires,” he remarks. The boy next to him tilts his head a little but quickly lowers his gaze.

“I also make plants,” he adds, “And fires. I like to play with water too. Have you ever played with water, Yuri?”

The little boy shakes his head.

“Would you like to learn?”

Yuri gasps at the question and his little mouth drops open. Yuuri smiles softly at him and lightly brushes his hand against the other boy’s.

“Kenjiro would you like to learn as well?” he asks.

“But water hurts fires,” he mumbles.

“You can learn to control both! It’s not that hard, I promise. I did it before too,” he reassures the boy with a bright smile.

“I can do fire things without hurting people?” he lifts his head and finally meets Yuuri’s gaze.

“Of course you can,” he says with a firm tone.

“Yuwi can awso wearn about fiyah?” the little boy in front of him kneels and rests his chin on his knees. The display is so endearing and comfortable that he feels his heart could explode.

“Yes, Yuri can too,” he pats his head gently. “How would you like to come home with me?”

And that was how Yuuri Katsuki’s life changed in a span of just one evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm weak for papa Yuuri, man.
> 
> i live on the hellsite: [y-katsukiis](http://y-katsukiis.tumblr.com/)


	8. Everywhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes selfishness equates to selflessness; or the one where Yuuri's heart loves unconditionally regardless of any curse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the story goes that the witches can't fall in love romantically, but that means he has room to fall in love however other way that he wants to. And so he does.
> 
> Not beta'd.

Yuuri hadn’t told the aunts about Yuri and Kenjiro, nor had he felt the need to because for the remaining months he was there he visited them at the orphanage.

During his visits he found out more about the two boys–little things like their favorite colors and foods and what their favorite things to do were. He figured that his sudden step fatherhood should begin with getting to know what he’s getting into. Kenjiro liked the color red and loved taiyaki. He knew basic fire tricks that entertained little Yuri to no end. Yuri on the other hand loved green and most of Kolya’s cooking. It seemed like he did nothing other than follow his older brother around.

From Kolya he learned that there was no real explanation of how the boys ended up here, more so how they ended up together. The two turned up one night signaled by the falling broom as usual. When he found them they were hiding in the narrow alleyway between the orphanage and the building next door. How they got there was a mystery, but they looked disheveled and suffered malnutrition. It sounded like a case of abandonment or neglect because there was no way two little boys, the oldest no older than maybe six, could run away in such a state. It broke his heart and definitely shattered Yuuri’s upon hearing the story.

He decided that he would take matters into his own hands and give them the life they deserved. A life where they could control themselves and not live in fear of getting hurt because they were different. It would be difficult seeing as he barely made on by himself, but seeing them that way struck something in him. It felt right being together somehow. It was almost as though the universe, in some sick twisted way, lead him back to a version of his past that he could strive to change.

And by gods he took that chance. He didn’t regret it one bit.

 

* * *

 

In hindsight it probably would’ve been better to mention them to the aunts.

“You did WHAT?” Minako practically shrieked into the young man’s ear. Kenjiro and Yuri were entertained by the vegetable garden beside the house. “I thought that you were like, babysitting or something!?”

“Who on this island would trust me with their children?” he retorted, placing his hands on his hips.

“I don’t know, that Yuuko girl seems pretty relaxed with you around her family!” she waved her hands around frantically.

“We don’t even talk! Okay look– yes I adopted them. They’re my kids now and they’re your grand-nephews,” Yuuri stated matter-of-factly and crossed his arms. It’s not that he couldn’t understand why she was suddenly so frazzled by the situation. He would’ve freaked out too if his nephew-turned-son came home after three years abroad with not only a business degree but two sons as well. But that didn’t mean she had to freak out on him.

“Mina, he was doing it to protect them,” Kanako tried to reason. Her sister stood leaning next to the front door, her now bobbed chestnut hair swaying in the wind. She pinched her nose bridge and inhaled sharply.

“I’m too young to be a grandmother,” she huffed.

“You couldn’t have told us sooner, Yuu-kun?” his younger aunt sighed, one hand on her hip while the other cradled her forehead. She stood on the opposite end of the porch from both Minako and Yuuri.

“I didn’t know how to bring it up,” he argued weakly. It was true though, and there were no issues while he was still in Hasetsu. He figured it would be smooth sailing from there but failed to consider the feelings of the outsiders of his situation.

“Yuuri, no offense or anything, but you can barely take care of yourself! What made you think adopting two fucking _babies_ was a good idea?” she chided.

“Mina, Language!” Kanako hissed at her sister.

“They are not babies. Look, Kenji is eight and Yuri is six. And they are _not_ me!” he emphasizes the word, trying to get his point across. “And I’m not the same pathetic kid I was three years ago!”

“We know Yuuri but–”

“You are an incredibly selfish and stubborn young man and I have no idea what I did to deserve you,” Minako interrupted and flicked his forehead. “Listen, we don’t even have rooms for them yet. They’re going to have to share Mari’s bed for now because we’re a little lacking in the children’s department in the house if your thick skull didn’t notice.”

And with that the older aunt stomped back into the old house, slamming the large wooden door behind her. Kanako sighed and plopped onto the bench next to her. Yuuri let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and collapsed next to his younger aunt. From where they sat he could see Kenjiro and Yuri crouching over the plants in the garden. He smiled as Kenjiro pointed at the bugs on the plants and Yuri just made a face at them. He seemed more fascinated by the newly woken plants. It was still mid spring and just warm enough for them to spend time outside.

“She’s just stressed because she wasn’t exactly prepared for this,” Kanako exhaled, reaching an arm around him. She lightly squeezed his shoulder and rubbed his arm. “Neither of us were, really.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I should’ve said something sooner, but there was just never _time_ ,” he replied. Kanako gave a noncommittal hum in response. A beat of silence passed between them as they continued to observe the children in the yard. The older boy took the younger’s hand and dragged him across the garden pointing at the different plants. The little one looked absolutely fascinated by the formerly dormant plants and poked at the little buds beginning to show. It reminded her of how Yuuri and Mari loved playing in the gardens and tending to the plant. A fond tightness in her chest swelled and she exhaled smiling.

“She was like this when you guys came too but you were way too young to register it,” she chuckled.

“I can imagine her pulling her hair out over having to suddenly take two kids in,” he dryly remarked yet there was still a hint of playful teasing in his voice.

“So you get why she’s so frantic right?” she smirked at him. Yuuri glanced at her over his shoulder.

“Yeah, but it was just… difficult to see what they went through,” he slumped over, propping his elbows on his thighs. “You remember when Mari and I were little and those kids would always do awful things to us?”

Kanako nodded.

“That’s how I found them. I was so scared for them and then I was angry because well, I didn’t get the chance to ever be. I was always just so afraid,” he pushed himself off the bench and propped himself against one of the beams. “They looked so afraid.”

“And I thought maybe I could make things different for them? They don’t know how to control their abilities either. Their caretaker couldn’t help much either because he was a half-blood,” he explained.

Kanako eyed the young man in front of her fondly. She remembered how helpless he looked as a child and how he would always look to his older sister for support. She remembered how hard it had been on him growing up on the small close-minded island.

Yet here is that same anxious boy wanting to make a difference in someone else’s life. She figured that if a boy like that could grow into a man like him then it was his calling. He grew up to become that someone he needed so desperately needed in his life. Someone accepting, someone kind, and someone that would protect others like him.

“Your aunt Mina will warm up to them, you know. As soon as they get settled in she’ll be all over them like with you and your lunatic sister,” she says. Yuuri’s eyebrow raises as he looks over his shoulder. Kanako’s smirking off into the distance where the two boys are exploring. Yuuri can’t stop the smile that escapes him.

 

* * *

 

“Yura! Kenji! You’re going to be late!” Yuuri yells from the foot of the stairs. There’s a flurry of excited giggles and a collective sound of thundering footsteps making their way down the many steps of the house. How two little boys could make so much noise on their own, the man would never know.

Barely a year of being back home and they had already developed a comfortable way of living together as a small family. Two years later it felt like they had been doing the same thing their whole lives.

Yuuri opened his shop, Yu-Topia, earlier in the spring when most of the flowers were still waiting to bloom. Since then the business had a steady flow of customers that increased over time. He was incredibly pleased to see that his hard work was paying off and did not end up like his aunt’s failed dance studio.

It took some time for Yuri and Kenjiro’s rooms to get set up. The house was ancient and most of its rooms were barely touched. The two slept with Yuuri in his own room while they were in the process of clearing out one of the old studies. It seemed that they were adverse to sleeping in separate rooms because they always slept next to each other in Yuuri’s large bed. He loved seeing their closeness however and was blissfully aware that he was now part of it.

He was, however, incredibly hesitant to let the two out into the community just yet. He wasn’t sure if word had gotten out about him adopting kids, much less kids that also happened to be witches. It sent him into a fit of anxiety attacks that Minako chided him for because he was supposed to help his own kids for gods’ sake! Kanako had been much more understanding and offered to enroll them in the school for the next school year. That would give them time to acclimate to their surroundings and for them to learn to control their abilities.

Yet that made his heart beat faster.

What would the other kids on the island to if they found out about Yuri and Kenjiro’s abilities? Would the give them the same treatment he and his sister received? He didn’t want to see his own children go through the same fate as him, especially since he brought them here to protect them. It scared him to think that his own babies would be bullied for such trivial things. That lead him to his own selfish decision for them.

“I’m not going to teach them magic.”

“What do you mean you won’t teach them magic?” Kanako gasped incredulously when he expressed his feelings. “It’s family practice! Tradition! You know that better than anyone else,” she scoffs. “What’s gotten into you?”

It was late at night and he had tucked his sons into bed hours earlier. He found himself in a fit of sleeplessness and quietly slipped into the greenhouse in search of the calming lavender plants. Kanako found him there not long after.

“It’s just… what would happen if they were found out?” he explained. Yuuri sat on top of one of the many tables along the edges of the room. His fingers mindlessly caressed the delicate little flowers.

“Wasn’t the whole point of you bringing them home to help them control their powers? I really don’t understand you,” she sighed.

“I want a normal life for them where they don’t have to live in fear,” he said, still staring out the starless sky.

“Then have faith in their abilities. We’ll tutor them so you won’t have to think about it,” Kanako wrapper her arms around her nephew. Yuuri leaned into the touch and held her arms.

“Okay,” he mumbled. “But promise me one thing, aunt Kana.”

The aunt was startled by his sudden reprimanding tone. It was unlike him to ever be so straightforward. “What is it, my love?” she questioned, looking down at him with wide eyes. Said wide brown eyes flickered red in the moonlight.

“You will teach them control, but you will not teach them magic,” his words came out firm.

“Alright then,” she responded with hesitation. There was no point in arguing with a stubborn soul and she knew her nephew was indeed a very stubborn soul.

Their conversation was left at that and life went on.

And now the boys had been going to school for nearly a year now. Yuuri was relieved when they came home everyday and Kenjiro had another exciting story to tell about his new friends. Little Yuri was still so shy but from what he heard from his older brother it seemed like he was fitting in well enough. In fact, one of his friends ended up calling him Yurio on accident and the nickname stuck. It made life at home easier at least because now the aunts could distinguish the two. Little Yuri didn’t seem to mind an awful lot either at least. Yuuri still preferred Yura, sticking with his son’s Russian heritage because he knew all too well the value of heritage in his own family.

“Papa!” Kenjiro squeals, leaping off the last few steps on the staircase onto Yuuri. Yurio follows suit and hugs his right leg tightly.

“Woah, what did I say about jumping off the stairs?” he sighs exasperatedly but his voice is still laced with fondness. Kenjiro proved to be incredibly excitable and energetic and Yuuri found it nearly impossible to keep up with. How his youngest kept up with him he’d never know.

“Come on, you have just enough time to have breakfast before the bus comes,” he says, ushering the boys towards the kitchen. Yuri immediately latches onto Yuuri’s hand and tugs him along. He’s always more than happy to oblige.

 

* * *

 

Life at home suddenly becomes brighter for Yuuri. It seemed that years of being gone dulled his former presence on the island. His sons assimilated to life well, and they had more control over their abilities since the aunts had begun tutoring him.

Yu-Topia had a healthy barrage of customers and business was well enough for him to help the aunts at home. Neither of them had a real job and relied on the family entailments. There was also the occasional dabble in matchmaking that Yuuri heavily forbade after he brought the two boys home. He did not want a repeat of what happened when he and Maria found out about it. Time went on and he was grateful for the sudden normalcy.

But the unbearable lightness of being included mistakes.

Yuuri had been tending to the know well known flower shop/apothecary one afternoon. Phichit helped him on the days he didn’t have classes and another one of Yuuri’s rare friendly acquaintances was taken on–Yuuko Nishigori–who happened to be married to one of his former bullies but he was long over that. He was twenty-six for gods’ sake. Those incidences were nearly two decades ago.

They were restocking the shelves early in the evening on a weekday, when the shopping lull was low. Yuuri was behind the register wrapping up the accounting for that day and Phichit and Yuuko were replenishing the shelves. These were the serene moments he lived for.

Yuri and Kenjiro liked to walk to the shop to visit their papa after school and today was no different. Phichit spotted them before Yuuri could and snickered at the sight.

“Yuuri, you have special visitors again,” he chuckled happily. Yuuri loved nothing more than seeing his boys after a long day at work. His gaze lifted away from the notebook he was scribbling in and smiled at them. The two boys, now ten and twelve. They looked happier, though Yurio had knack of getting in trouble with others at school. Like Yuuri, he’s still uncomfortable around people and not adjusting as well as he could. Yuuri made a mental note to see the psychologist just in case. The two pressed their faces against the glass and started making faces at the adults inside. The three of them laughed at their antics and waved.

“I’m not cleaning that,” Yuuko snorted.

“Phichit you’re on lock up duty so have fun,” he shrugged. It was true anyways.

“You guys are so mean! I have homework you know!” he whined.

“Yeah, but since you practically live with me I know you have a free day tomorrow,” Yuuri said cooly from behind the counter. Phichit huffed in mild annoyance and made a face at the little boys outside. Their playful banter continued until Yuuri spotted an unusually large mob of school children approaching the shop. Kids never came to the shop unless their parents dragged them. An uneasy feeling settled into his stomach.

Kenjiro and Yuri were still unaware of the horde approaching them and stuck their tongues out at Phichit. Yuuko picked up on Yuuri’s sudden discomfort and quickly turned to face the window again. She gave him a worried look and he made his way to the front.

The two only noticed the crowd after someone threw a side remark at them. Before Yuuri could make it out he could tell they were full on arguing outside, some of the adults even finding their own children. The situation was turning uncertain and Yuuri made a beeline for the door. When he got out Yuri was launching himself at another boy but was being held away by who he assumed to be his mother.

“Yura!” he yelled. Kenjiro turned to face him but Yuri was still intent on getting to the boy. “Yura, stop that!” he grabbed the smaller blond boy by the arm and yanked him away.

“Papa, they were calling us _freaks_!” Kenjiro jumped into his arms. This was what he wanted to protect them from and suddenly he felt like he was failing at everything all over again.

“I’ll get you, you asshole!” Yuri swung at him but he was still held firmly back by his father.

“Yuri, enough!” he warned. “I’m so sorry about this, but I don’t know what happened,” he turned to the other mother who was coddling her son protectively.

“This was your troublemakers’ fault!” she hissed at him. Yuri gave her a scowl and she pulled her son behind her. “If it weren’t for them, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

“I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding–”

“I hope you get chicken pox!” Kenjiro cried, harshly pointing his finger at the boy behind her.

“Kenjiro!” Yuuri scolded the boy and shoved his arm down. “We do not point! And we do not cast spells, let alone hex other children!” he reprimanded. The mother of the boy gave a horrified gasp and hurried the other children away. Yuuri sighed heavily. He was in for it now, and if his kids weren’t exposed before they definitely were now. Phichit and Yuuko spotted him through the window and gave him a knowing look.

“Kenjiro, why did you do that?” he releases Yuri from his grasp and grabs his other son firmly by the shoulders. Kenjiro keeps his eyes down and scowls at the man in front of him.

“They were hurting us,” he mutters. The man sighs.

“Look at me, baby,” he lowers his own face and tries to meet his son’s eyes. The boy blatantly avoids it and grunts.

“Kenjiro Katsuki, look your father in the eyes,” Yuuri repeats his demand sternly. The boy finally caves in and meekly looks him the eyes. His eyes flicker orange in the lighting and turn red.

“You know what, you don’t cast! You don’t do magic, and you probably couldn’t if you tried!” he accuses and shoves Yuuri’s arms away. He grabs his little brother by the hand and yanks him away, heading in the direction of their house. Yuuri just sighs and wraps his arms around himself. He watched as his oldest pulled his youngest along the sidewalk, the latter casting worried looks over his shoulder.

“Yuuri, you okay?” Yuuko asks from the doorway.

“Yeah it’s fine. You know he can be a little fireball at times,” he huffs, turning to face her with a sad smile on his face. He felt guilty seeing his kids like this. He was supposed to protect them and help them lead easy lives, but what just happened stirred his anxiety uncertainly. Phichit must’ve noticed his unease.

“I can help Yuuko close up tonight if you want,” the boy called from the doorway. His colleague nodded in agreement.

“Thanks but it’s really alright. They need to cool off and I need to finish the books,” he replied. The other two nodded unsurely and stole back into the shop. Yuuri took one last look at the little boys walking away and returned to the store after seeing them turn the corner.

 

* * *

 

“Kenji I think you hurt papa,” Yuri muttered as he walked beside his brother. Kenjiro just grumbled, keeping his eyes downcast.

“What does he know? He never helps us with magic! He always used to promise he would but it’s always aunt Mina or aunt Kana!” he spat.

“Aunt Kana says it hurts him,” the younger responded.

“Well aunt Kana must be wrong because papa is big and strong and nothing ever hurts him,” he argued. Yuri just gave his brother an unsure look and held onto his hand a little tighter.

“Yeah. Papa is strong,” he agrees.

 

* * *

 

“ _Tadaima_ ,” Yuuri sighed as he closed the front door.

“Ah, you’re home earlier than usual,” Minako greeted him as she stepped out of the living room. There were distinct sounds of pots clanging from the kitchen.

“Is aunt Kana cooking again?” he winced, kicking his shoes off.

“She’s very, uh, determined,” his aunt gave him an unamused look. “And that’s about all I’m going to say about this,” she deadpanned. He loved his aunt Kana to death, but everyone knew she was incapable of making scrambled eggs.

“Does she need help then?” he sighed.

“No, Yurio’s actually in there helping her,” she smiled knowingly.

“Yura’s helping?” he raised an eyebrow. Lately he’d been noticing that his youngest had a knack of making things around the house–whether it was hammering toast and pouring honey all over it and calling it a cake or stacking the pillows in the corner of his room declaring it was a new form of organization. He laughed at the eccentricity of his son and smiled fondly.

Minako nodded and walked with him into the kitchen. Surely enough Yuri was there helping Kanako make dinner. There was a way bigger mess than there should’ve been for cooking just fish and rice but he’d let it slide for the effort put in. Yuri was sitting on the counter by the sink rinsing the rice in a large steel bowl. Any other parent would have chastised him for climbing onto the counters but Yuuri also had the habit of sitting on things not meant to be sat on. He made his way past the stove where Kanako was grumbling over the fish sticking to the pan and received a disgruntled ‘hello’ from the aunt. He pat her shoulder comfortingly before joining Yuri on the counter.

“What ya doing, Yura?” he grinned. The little boy was so focused on swishing the soaked rice around in the boy that Yuuri was sure there was more rice in the sink than in the bowl at that point.

“Aunt Kana said to wash the rice,” he replied. Yuuri could see his little pink tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth and chuckled.

“I think you’re getting more rice outside of the bowl than in. Here, you did wonderful,” Yuuri motioned for the boy the hand the bowl over and he complied. He rinsed the water out, careful not to lose the grains remaining, and gave it one final wash and rinse. When the water proved clear he pulled a plastic cup out of one of the overhead cupboards.

“Fill this with five cups of water then put it in the cooker, okay?” he handed the cup over to Yuri. The little boy nodded and began the process thoughtfully.

“Where’s Kenjiro?” Yuuri asked his aunt who was fussing over the mix of vegetables that looked oddly soggy.

“Kenji’s in the garden,” she grumbled. He quirked a brow at her.

“You sure you don’t need help?” he asked.

“No, just go to your boy!” she yelled at the pan in frustration. It startled little Yuri but pulled a laugh out of the man.

“Don’t stress yourself, aunt Kana. Your blood pressure is much too high for this kind of stress,” he teased as he sauntered to the back door.

The sun had nearly set by the time he got home so he was greeted by the first wave of darkness when he stepped out into the garden. The sky was still a mix of purple hues and dying browns from the last sliver of the sun sinking past the horizon. The trees stubbornly clung to their summer greens but Yuuri could see the red seeping in from the beginnings of fall.

Kenjiro crouched by the trees, picking up twigs as he went. He knew what the boy was doing; he’s done it many times before. His son, being the gifted fire witch he is, loved making dancing embers. They were like fireflies with equal amounts of beautiful and deadly. Yet the danger didn’t worry Yuuri one bit. He was skilled and cautious, just like his father.

Watching the dancing embers had a calming effect on Kenjiro. Often times he did it to focus his energy somewhere that wasn’t his emotions. In lieu of spontaneously combusting objects out of frustration, Yuuri helped him center his focus on other things. The spell happened to be one of those things.

Kenjiro walked to a clearing in the grass and carefully snapped the handful of twigs in one hand. The twigs disintegrated into his fist as he drew it near his lips to mumble an incantation, and soon he was blowing the glowing embers into the late evening breeze. They flitted from his small hand, swirling into the air and swishing along with his hand gestures. Yuuri decided not to break his serene moment and walked back inside.

 _He will figure things out on his own_ , he thinks. _I don’t give him enough credit for his–their–strength._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be more of a filler chapter (the chapter number will have a .5 in it) since it doesn't follow the plot line. I also thought it'd be cute to show more interaction between Yuuri and his boys.
> 
> i live on the hellsite: [y-katsukiis](http://y-katsukiis.tumblr.com/)


	9. Is This Real?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's no place like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated the tags so you might want to check that out before reading this chapter.
> 
> This one took a little longer to write because I can't write action scenes apparently? I also changed the plot for this chapter at least seventy times before it came out as it is. Believe me, this wasn't how I actually wanted this to go down at first but in the end it was easier to write out and tie in with the rest of the story.
> 
> * begonias - beware
> 
> * 我很害怕，媽媽 - I was so scared, Mama  
> * 現在沒關係我在這 - It’s okay, I’m here now.  
> * 看看你要去哪裡 - Watch where you’re going  
> * 抱歉 - sorry
> 
> Not beta'd.

It takes two years for Mari to fully circulate the globe and another year and a half to do it again. She’s probably the most seasoned traveller in the Katsuki household and her pride wouldn't have it any other way.

But being away for so long also weighed down on her conscience. She knew her family loved her and supported all her adventurous endeavors, but that didn’t mean she had to be gone for so long like this right? At least that’s what she always asked herself. It weighed on her like a bag of bricks and nagged her every time she hopped on an old boat or tiny plane.

For all she knew her family could be completely different people. The letters she exchanged back and forth from her nephews indicated that her little brother was definitely growing as a person. It brought her a sense of comfort but there was a suffocating anxiety in the back of her mind. What if he was so changed that he didn’t need her anymore? What if she came back and he had no time for her? What if he hated her for leaving him alone again? She did visit the minute Minako sent her a letter about Kenjiro and Yurio.

The aunts never failed to contact her regularly. Having contacts all over the globe (thanks to Kanako’s previous travels) made it easy for them to get in touch with each other. She recalls (and shares) Minako’s frustration when Yuuri showed up with kids out of the blue. Honestly had it not been for her aunt, Mari was willing to bet whatever money she had left that Yuuri would’ve forgotten to tell her properly at all. _Leave it to Yuuri to go out of his way and be stubborn again_ , she thought fondly.

Kanako’s letters on the other hand were completely inquisitive of Mari’s travels. Years ago, before Mari was even born, she was the designated wanderer of the Katsuki family. She was fueled by the same spite that did Mari when she was an adolescent but didn’t go farther than Nepal. The young woman had surpassed her by nearly twenty three (twenty four had she actually been well enough to go on that trip to Greenland) countries and at least two whole years.

Maria Katsuki loved adventure and could never get enough of it.

But she had a family she had been neglecting.

“Mari? Is something wrong?” JJ inquires from the bar. It startles Mari out of her thoughts causing her to flinch and nearly knock her glass over.

“N-Nothing! I’m fine,” she stutters.

“Are you sure? Do you want more to drink?” he chuckles from the bar. “Maybe something stronger?” a shit-eating grin replaces his concerned one as he quirked an eyebrow.

“If you have anything stronger than Russian vodka, then by all means hand the bottle over,” she snorts.

“I can whip you up an absinthe cocktail?”

“Nope. Your liver will be dead by the time you get back to Japan,” Isabella yells from across the room.

Mari returned to North America a month ago, half in hopes to tie up some loose ends with that weird vegan cult that continued to follow (though she prefers the term “stalk”) her after ditching them and to return some promised visits to friends she made there. Her last stop happened to be in a little family-owned college bar in Quebec. The Leroys had offered her a place to stay, which was how she and Isabella became officially acquainted.

She was a fragile looking woman, clearly much younger than Mari herself, with beautiful pale skin and jet black hair. Her eyes were the same striking blue of the sea back on the island and for a moment she wonders if Yuuri’s spell affected her just because she was there when he cast it. Alas, despite her beauty Mari could care less for relationships. She couldn’t even bring it in herself to have a one night stand. That’s just how life goes for a woman with her tastes.

“Tell that to your sugar-guzzling boyfriend–”

“Fiancé!”

“Whatever you are. He’s going to get diabetes with the amount of syrup shots I’ve seen him down,” she retorts.

“That’s not how diabetes works,” the man scoffs from behind the counter. Mari just shrugs in response.

It’s midday on a Thursday and she was due to leave on Saturday morning for Kyushu. From there she’d go through Hasetsu to pay her respects to her parents then return home.

It was going to be a surprise, but knowing the aunts they probably already knew that she was going to be home soon. Maybe if she willed the gods enough not to bring them a sign it would actually work and Yuuri would be ecstatic.

_Yuuri._

The anxiety floods her again. He’d been pretty busy with his new shop lately (she still can’t believe he managed to pull if off _successfully_ ) and his letters were pretty rare. She even got more letters from Yurio and Kenjiro than of her own brother. They explained that Yurio was going to start middle school soon and Kenjiro was going on his last year of it. She remembers when Yuuri was in middle school, so meek and cautious of the world. He wouldn’t go anywhere without holding her or Vicchan.

And how much he grew from that since she left.

“Hey if you’re going to drink yourself stupid at least eat something too or you’ll regret it,” Isabella prodded Mari’s side and placed a plate of fries in front of her.

“Thanks, mom,” Mari smirked. The other woman just rolled her eyes fondly. The two were getting along really well and already promised to message each other frequently after Mari left.

“Just practicing for the future,” she sighs and smiles, almost sadly. “Anytime, sweetheart,” she adds with a wink.

Mari can’t help but wonder what the sadness in her smile meant. She swirled the whisky in her cup and watched the little bubbles form around.

For a split second she swore there was a vision of begonias in the golden liquor.

 

 

* * *

 

Mari starts packing Friday morning so she won’t have forget about it if she comes back drunk again. It’s not that difficult because after years of travelling she learned it was easiest to pack light. It was easy to get cheap clothes from thrift stores and donate them when she needed the room for other things. It was also more interesting and allowed her style to keep on changing.

She likes to think that her style right now is obviously-a-tourist-backpacking-across-the-globe chic because cargo pants are the comfiest thing to wear when one travels so much. Plus the abundance of pockets makes it convenient to not carry an extra bag around. She notices her hair’s getting longer again too so she plans to cut it later in the afternoon.

“Hello,” a voice singsongs at the same time a knock is heard on her door.

“Come in,” she responds.

“I was wondering if you had anymore laundry before you finish packing?” Isabella’s head pokes a through with a bright smile.

“Good morning to you too, Bella. Actually I do have some things to wash. Hang on,” she responds with a grin. She makes her way to the opposite of the room to the old armoire and pulls out a small laundry bag. Mari turns back, peeking into the contents inside.

“It’s not a lot, but I’d rather have some clean–” she starts but notices the purple and red splotches underneath Isabella’s left jaw and ear. “Bella, what’s on your cheek?”

The young woman looks genuinely startled and afraid by the comment.

“Ah, this? I-It’s nothing! Just got, um– tripped over myself and hit a chair at the bar. Nasty fall, really,” she laughs weakly. Mari would be an idiot not to notice that there was no way a chair could cause a bruise like that in such a location. She rakes her eyes over the woman’s delicate form and notes that she’s fidgeting her sleeves and tugging at the hem of her shirt. She gives her one last suspicious glance.

“If you say so,” Mari’s expression remains the same. Isabella’s eyes dart between her and the bag a few times before snatching them from her hands.

“Well, I’m going to go finish the laundry! Let me know if you need anything else,” she says, quickly turning away from Mari.

When the door shuts and she’s sure that no one else is nearby, she pulls out a garnet pendulum and saunters over to the nightstand. She retrieves an old, weathered card from the nightstand and sits in the middle of the full size bed. The card has various astronomical readings, some of which were more so for the aesthetic since she had to buy one from a store, and a large circle with symbols adorning it. The symbols often casted predictions for events, but they were rarely active in practice. This time around she hopes those symbols would actually give her the answers she wants, or possibly the ones that she needs.

Mari sits cross-legged at the end of the bed facing the card and steadily holding the silver chain in her hand. She tries to clear her mind as much as possible, focusing on her subject.

_Isabella Yang._

The pendulum swings back and forth ever so slightly, but it’s enough for her to register as a ‘yes’.

She waits for the pendulum to still. Inhaling deeply, she closes her eyes again.

_Danger?_

The pendulum swings clockwise. Another ‘yes’.

_Time?_

The pendulum ceases motion.

“Don’t go all mystic and oracle-y on me now! This is a life threatening situation!” she hisses at the pendant.

The pendulum swings once, then twice, and begins to sway back and forth in a small arc.

The stone swings back and forth between four symbols, all drawn next to each other in perfect spacing. Mari reads the symbols as danger, fate, betrayal, and death.

 _Great_ , she thinks bitterly.

“Alright, but what of the four?” she mumbles and focuses her energy more. She watches as the swinging slows into a wide arc. After only a few seconds, the stone at the end pulls to the last symbol on the right, as though being pulled by a magnet.

 _Death_.

“Shit.”

 

* * *

 

“Bella? Hey, Bella!” she scrambles into the hallway, nearly tripping over her backpack. She opted for finishing packing haphazardly in less than twenty minutes versus taking her time. Her laundry could wait to because saving her friend was way more important. Especially since it read as a life or death situation, and if she stayed here it would not have the preferred outcome.

JJ and Isabella live in a small flat right next to JJ’s family’s own bigger flat. There were only two floors, the second floor housing only the master bedroom (with an en suite bathroom), the guest room, and an extra bathroom with a small linen closet inside. Each door was adorned with a different ornament of sorts which made distinguishing rooms easier for the woman. She turned to the master bedroom first.

“Hey, Isabella? Are you in there?” Mari knocks urgently and pushes in before waiting for a response. After a few seconds she grows impatient and barges through.

The room is empty but items are strewn everywhere. It shouldn’t phase her so much since she’s used to living in cluttered spaces but it looked as though a storm blew through. There were dents on the wall and closet doors. The items around the room looked like they had been thrown into the far corner of the room.

“Holy shit,” Mari whispers to herself. She carefully walks over to the other side of the room, squinting at the marks on the walls. The indentions looked violent and forced, almost as though something were trying to claw through the walls. They looked incredibly recent too, which meant that it likely happened within the last twenty-four hours when she was out of the flat.

Something crackles beneath her foot, startling her out of thought. When she glances down she sees something glinting in the soft light that passes through the curtains. She squats to get a closer look at the substance.

“Glass?” she mutters incredulously as she picks up a shard. The piece was definitely from what looked like a short whiskey glass. There’s a stain on the wall that lightly smells of alcohol.

The sight continues to unnerve her more. She’s absolutely positive that something had gone down between Isabella and JJ; however she’s not one to jump to conclusions. She wraps the glass shard in a hand towel she finds on the nightstand and pockets it. _It could be useful_ , Mari tells herself.

As she walks out of the room, a draft from the A/C sends shivers down her spine and a light waft of lemon blossom to her nose. It’s comforting in the way she knows that mother nature is on her side, but unsettles her because she knows it’s a warning. It’s a warning she can’t pinpoint because magic does not reveal the future–only possible fates.

The master bathroom is found in the same state of disorder. There are some traces of dried blood on the sink and more shards of glass. She feels her gut sink at the sight and has the same sensation as nettles burning skin. It perturbs her, knowing now that there is definitely something wrong. It’s the same sense of discomfort she gets when Yuuri would have panic attacks and she felt utterly useless. She had to find Isabella and she had to find her now.

Mari leaves everything else as it is and briefly checks the guest bathroom. When she finds it relatively undisturbed she makes a beeline for the stairs. As luck would have it, she slips on the third step and slides down ungracefully for the rest of the flight.

“Woah, take it easy!” a voice chuckles. Groaning, Mari rubs her backside and mutters incoherent phrases in Japanese. “What’s the hurry?”

Her eyes go wide and she snaps upward. JJ stands above her, his hand reaching out to help her up. There’s something off about his usual cheeky grin. His eyes swirl in that steely resolve she remembers seeing that first time in the bar, back when she found out something bad happened to her little brother. She senses something relentless in him.

“I-I’m fine,” Mari mutters weakly, taking his hand. He yanks pulls her up with a force she’s suddenly too aware off. _He’s awfully strong,_ she thinks, _and forceful_.

“Mind if I ask where you’re headed to in such a hurry? If it’s Bella you’re looking for she’s busy doing the laundry,” he motions to the door leading to the basement. The lemon scent attacks her again, making her physically recoil. She pinches her nose bridge in hopes of relieving some of the scent

“Oh, it’s that air freshener she really likes. I keep saying it’s too strong for others but she insists on it,” he says.

“It’s fine. I just have a really sensitive nose,” she replies. Technically it’s true, but her senses are trained to look for omens in the wind. He for sure doesn’t need to know that because everything in the universe is telling her that something is _wrong_. She can’t accuse him of anything however, but she remains on her guard.

In the background she can hear the faint sounds of the washing machine rumbling and the air conditioner at work. JJ moves out of her way as she walks into the kitchen in search of alcohol. It may be eleven in the morning and she may not have had lunch, but she needs to dull her senses for a bit. It’s getting too overwhelming.

JJ makes his way to the living room, fully exposed to the kitchen so she can watch his every move. She wonders for a moment if it’s deliberate because she can feel his eyes on her. She makes no move to acknowledge it but she _feels_ and she _knows_.

 _It’s not safe,_ the wind whispers in her mind. She tells the wind, _I know_.

Mari finds what (but not who) she’s looking for and downs half the bottle in two swigs. JJ whistles from where he sits.

“Rough night or something?” he breathily chuckles. She slams her bottle down and hangs her head.

“You haven’t the faintest clue,” she retorts.

The room quickly returns to a tense silence.

After a few beats she hears a quiet sobbing. She lifts her head ever so slightly, trying to pinpoint the source. It’s coming from the basement. JJ makes a disgruntled noise and peels himself off the couch.

“Have you finished packing? I think Isabella might’ve hurt herself on the washer again. I’ll go check on her and you can finish up,” he says too quickly. Mari just nods and pretends to leave for the staircase. She decides to walk up a few steps, just until he hears him disappear, and quietly retreats back down.

She tiptoes to the basement door and leans in.

“ _You bitch! What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you want us to get torn apart? To be separated?_ ” a dull thud interrupts the words, “ _Do you want me to get taken away? Who will protect you but me? Why is it so fucking hard for you to understand that?”_ she hears the muffled screaming and cries through the door. She hears Isabella sobbing but her cries are quickly muffled.

“ _JJ, baby, I’m so sorry I’m just hurting real bad–”_

“ _You clearly don’t get it! You stupid fucking whore!_ ” he yells again followed by the sound of a hard slap.

Without thinking, Mari bursts through the basement door and jumps down the staircase. JJ freezes, his hand about to strike the woman underneath him but Isabella is still bracing herself.

“What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?” she screams at him. Rage instantly fills her veins the moment his gunmetal eyes lock onto her own burning amber ones. She feels heat and flame, but she can’t cause anything to combust down here. Too many hazards lying around.

“Oh, Miss Maria. I really didn’t want you to see this,” he mutters plainly. The man drops his hands to his side, striding over slowly towards her. His eyes stay locked on.

“You’re a filthy fucking scumbag, Leroy,” she spits at him. JJ smirks at her.

“But no one would believe you, _just Mari_. I’m the king of this castle, and you can’t bring me down,” his words slur together as he cackles. Mari sees something snap in him and lunges away.

JJ tries to grab at her but Mari reacts faster. She pulls Isabella by the wrist, yanking her to the other side of the basement. Isabella stumbles weakly in her hysteria.

“How fucking stupid, you’ve cornered yourselves in,” JJ snickers. Mari narrows her eyes at him and she feels fire coursing through her body.

 _Better now than never_.

Mari uses her free hand to draw in the wind and wills all the heat in her body to conjure out. It comes out in long lines that she throws towards the man, causing him to flail back. While he’s distracted, she takes the opportunity to rush her and Isabella up the stairs. They get to the landing and she slams the basement door shut. She locks the door but she knows it won’t be enough. Mari looks around and sees the buffet table by the front door.

“Bella, I’m going to need you to help me with this,” she urges, grabbing the other woman by her shoulders.

“But JJ’s still inside! We can’t–”

“Isabella, not now! He hurt you! He degraded you and beat you! You can’t possibly think he’s worth saving!” Mari shakes her roughly as if the action would shake out all thoughts of him.

“Who’ll look after me?” she cries out. “Who’ll protect me?”

“I will!” Mari spits out, turning her around abruptly. “Buffet table. Now.”

Isabella hesitantly complies and gets on the other side of the table. They heave the oak buffet table together, effectively shoving it against the door.

“We need to get out of here. I want you to run to the pharmacy around the corner, got it? You can’t stay here,” Isabella nods at her request. “I need to get my things still but it shouldn’t take to long. I just can’t have you waiting here.”

Isabella swallows at her words.

“Go!”

And she runs.

 

* * *

 

By the time Mari gets back downstairs, she hears JJ frantically clawing at the door. She hears his muffled cries and pleas and weak death threats thrown at her.

She ignores all of it however and bursts out the door. All she knows is that she and Isabella have to get out of here safe.

The sky is mockingly bright and sunny with a beautiful spread of clouds, making it just cool enough to walk out without a sweater on. Either that or she’s become accustomed to various climate changes due to traveling but she doesn’t dwell on it much. Her friend is waiting around the corner and she needs to be there for her.

Mari slows her pace down the moment she sees the familiar Rite Aid sign and walks in. She immediately spots Isabella pacing along the first aisle. The woman is visibly shaken and muttering weakly under her breath.

“Bella?” she says cautiously. Isabella is obviously in a very fragile state, not to mention what she witness the witch do.

“What am I going to do? Where am I going to go? Mari, I don’t know, please help me,” the woman rushes over to her, awkwardly pressing her face into the front of her shirt despite how much shorter Mari is. Sighing, Mari drops her backpack and does her best to embrace her.

“I’m going to take you wherever you need to go,” she says with determination. “Where does your family live?”

“My family lives in China. I moved here years ago to study and ended up staying because, well,” her voice trails off weakly. She remains hunched over in Mari’s arms as she pulls away.

“I’ll take you wherever you need to go then. I’ll take you to China,” she smiles. Isabella looks up at her, her blue eyes incredulous. “My next stop was Japan anyways. It’s convenient, actually. I have a family friend I have to stop by in Shanghai.”

“My family lives in the Yuhang district in Hangzhou.”

“Perfect!” she beams down. “We’ll head to the airport right now. But first, do you need anything from the house? I’ll go and you can wait here.”

“Passport. Top right drawer in the master bedroom dresser.”

“Got it.”

 

* * *

 

 

The man locked in the basement ceased his yelling and banging, much to Mari’s relief. When she runs past it with the documents in her hands she half expects him to start banging on the door again. When he doesn’t she’s almost tempted to crack open the door and check on him (because Mari doesn’t want to kill him even though she wants him dead) but opts out of it for their own safety. Besides, there was no way she could move the buffet table on her own.

Before they leave the pharmacy, she begrudgingly leads Isabella through the aisles in search for bandages and ointment. After that Mari calls for a cab and they make the driver speed all the way to the airport.

“Thank you, by the way,” Isabella whispers next to her. Mari’s been holding her hand since they got in the car, afraid that if she let go the other would go crawling back in her manipulated state or disappear back into a catatonic state that she remembers seeing Yuuri in when they were growing up.

“For saving me, and protecting me, that is,” she continues. Mari squeezes her hand lightly, prompting her to look up and gives her a small smile.

“I’m just glad we got out safe,” she replies. She doesn’t question her any further because of course Isabella wouldn’t tell her about any of this if she asked. It’s only incredibly lucky that she happened to be there to witness it. Mari only wishes that she knew sooner, then maybe she could’ve prevented all this.

“What are we going to do about JJ?” Isabella exhales.

“I don’t know yet,” Mari responds earnestly. “Let’s focus on getting out of here first, yeah?”

In all honesty she just wants to leave him there to rot.

Isabella hums quietly and stays quiet for the rest of the ride.

The second they reach the airport, Mari gives Isabella one of her duffel bags so she doesn’t seem so inconspicuous going on an international flight with nothing in her hands. Luckily enough she’s able to attain two reasonably priced one-way tickets from Air Canada to the Hangzhou International Airport thanks to her bag of tricks. Technically, she’s not allowed to use charms to obtain items like this but she considers this an emergency and Mother Nature will forgive her this time around.

The two women linger in their lobby gate for the time being, waiting another four hours for their flight to board. Other than that she has nothing left to do, so she starts looking up one-way tickets to Japan.

“What’s your family like, Mari?” Isabella prods from the seat next to her. Mari’s eyes stay glued onto her phone screen, grumbling at the rates she was receiving.

“They’re nice. Very supportive,” _almost to a fault_ , she adds in her mind. They never made her feel like she was abandoning them despite all her travelling but it irked her in a way.

“They seem like it,” Isabella mumbles. Mari lifts her gaze from the phone to look at her. She looks worn and tired, a little older for her age because of all the stress and fear put on her. Mari can only imagine what that was like for Isabella. “Tell me about your brother. He sounds nice.”

“He is when he isn’t a stubborn pain in the ass,” she deadpans. A soft smile graces Isabella’s face. “But he’s sweet and cares about others a lot. Sometimes I think it’s his only fault–being too nice to people.”

“Do you think I’m… too nice?”

“Wha– no! I think you’re also sweet and caring, but you have your own way of showing it as well. You’re incredibly selfless and your strength shows it,” Mari replies incredulously. She understands that it’s Isabella showing her insecurities because of her situation.

“I think that you’re just tired, but we’re going to fix that,” she continues quietly and wraps an arm around her.

“Thank you, Mari,” Isabella chokes out a sob.

She cries quietly in the older woman’s arms for the remaining three hours they have until they board their flight.

 

* * *

 

Their flight is smooth, thankfully, and despite the discomfort of economy Mari doesn’t think she’s ever had a better flight. She’s relieved now that they’re gone from that godforsaken city and for the fact that she’s this much closer to home.

The second they land in Hangzhou the two run out, barely remembering their single checked in duffel bag. Isabella hails a cab and spits out rapid Chinese. She’s trembling with anxiety and excitement.

“Bella, calm down,” she chuckles airily. “I know you’re excited to be home and all but–”

“What if he follows me here?” the young woman mutters under her breath. It makes the air constrict in her lungs for a split second. Her reaction is to reach over to the other side of the car, grab both her hands tightly, and pull her face closer to hers.

“Isabella Yang, you look at me,” she declares. The woman in question responds by giving her full attention despite the unease in her eyes.

“He will not follow you here. He will not follow you anywhere. I will be here to protect you until you get home safely and I will do everything in my power to keep you safe from there on out. Do you under–no, do you trust me?”

There’s an implication in the word _power_ that Isabella silently understands. How mentally there she was when Mari cast against JJ is unknown to the Japanese woman, but innately Isabella knows.

“Okay,” she whispers under her breath. “I trust you.”

With that, Mari lets her fall asleep on her lap for a while until they reach her family home. She makes a mental note to secure the house and the surrounding area with charms against evil. Maybe she’ll even fish out her security pendant. Aunt Minako gifted it to her when she first started traveling but she feels that Isabella will benefit from it more. Especially since those atrocious initials are still donning the necklace she’s still wearing.

When the cab pulls to a stop in front of a modern looking condominium, Isabella bolts out and sprints to the front door. Mari pays the driver and retrieves her bags from the trunk. She turns to walk through the front gate of the house and finds Isabella already in the arms of an elderly woman, who Mari assumes to be her mother, weeping and holding on for her dear life.

“我很害怕，媽媽。” she hears Isabella mutter out.

“現在沒關係我在這。” the elderly woman replies. She looks over Isabella’s shoulder and gazes at Mari. “You are Maria Katsuki, correct?”

Mari swallows and nods, steadily approaching the steps of the front door. The woman keeps her eyes on her the entire time with an unreadable expression. Immediately that expressions softens to one of relief.

“Thank you for protecting my baby girl,” she gives a weak smile. Mari also smiles back as Isabella pulls away.

“Thank you so much. For everything. For saving me. I don’t think I could ever repay you,” Isabella flings herself onto her. Mari strokes her hair gently.

“Well, you can repay me by giving me a place to stay if I ever need to be in Hangzhou ever again,” she jokes. Isabella laughs, a real genuine laugh out of amusement and not because she’s trying to keep smiling, and that removes the heartache she felt in Canada.

 _I’m ready to go home_ , she thinks.

 

* * *

 

In Shanghai she visits an apothecary in hopes to find some belladonna to refill the last of what she got from her brother. Unfortunately for her, there is no belladonna in stock and she resigns herself to meandering through the marketplace until she stumbles upon a cheap place to eat.

It’s not really worth finding another apothecary since she’ll be going home soon. She could just go by boat, straight to the ports of Tsushima, but she wants to visit her parents before going home. Travelling for years is finally taking its toll on her.

 _It’s about time I spend my money on my nephews rather than plane tickets_ , she thinks to herself.

Mari finds herself in a market stall full of freshly cooked seafood. She realizes that she hasn’t eaten all day (at that point it was already dinner time) and splurges more than necessary on her meal. She’s still stuck here for a day or two anyways. The cheapest flight she could find won’t be until the day after.

She sits herself in an outdoor seating area with the stench of street and food all around. It’s vaguely familiar, after all this isn’t the first time she’s been here. The scenery somewhat reminds her of going to the market back home as well.

Minako and Kanako would take both siblings to them to the weekend markets often when they were children. In a way, it reminded Mari that not all people antagonized them or considered them as anything but witches. They were never like the snooty housewives that walked among the stalls nor their bratty children that pulled her hair and shoved Yuuri around.

No, they were kind and did business with them as anyone would. It gave Mari a little faith in the world.

She likes to think that it’s that little market place that expanded her views of their world.

Halfway through her seventh dumpling an unpleasant shiver runs down her spine. It makes her breath run short, nearly choking on the morsel swallowed. The breeze picked up slightly it seems. She hadn’t noticed until some of the vendors scurried around trying to cover up their produce.

“I’m going to take this as my cue to find a place to stay,” she mutters, looking up at the sky. Dusk is finally dwindling away and giving into the darkness of the night. There are clouds overhead too–the kind that impend a late night shower. She doesn’t feel like getting caught up in that. Especially since she still has all her belongings with her.

Weaving through the bustling streets of Shanghai with a loaded duffel bag and hiking backpack is no easy feat. People aren’t always considerate to the amount of space she takes up because of it despite her small stature. It’s not like there’s much room to give way either.

Mari already knows where she’s going because she’s been there before. The owner of the small inn in a less appealing part of the city knows her as well. They struck a deal some years ago that Mari would cast to make their profit healthy and in return she always had a free place to stay.

She thinks it was worth the extra charm or two.

On the way there she runs into someone head on, the figure not seeming to care much about where they’re going. Normally she would excuse it as lack of space but this guy just shoved right through her.

“Hey!” she snipes at the figure. She registers the figure in a hood to be male. “看看你要去哪裡!” she adds in her choppy Chinese. The man pushes forth at a brisker pace, leaving her frustrated as she makes the final stretch to the inn.

“Maria! What a surprise to see you here!” a grouchy voice bellows the minute she walks in.

“Good evening, Xinyi,” she sighs, dropping her duffel to the ground. The man walks around the messy desk he was sitting behind and stands before Mari.

“Didn’t expect to see you again so soon,” he chuckles. “What has it been, a year?”

“Seven months actually,” she glances at him from the side.

“Lucky for you your usual room’s free right now,” he says as he picks up her bag. Mari lets him silently lead her up three flights of stairs to room 404. She’s only stayed there twice before but chance seems to have her in that room a lot. In the end, the owner, Xinyi, dubbed it as Maria’s suite. Which to her is ironic because the room is nothing but a suite.

It’s awkwardly spacious with a full size bed to the left of the door. There’s a TV that’s also awkwardly placed in the adjacent wall of it, meaning the views has to lie on their side to see it. There’s a closet on the opposite side of the room and a small dresser next to the bathroom door. The walls are an off-grey that makes the room seem like a dull cell.

Mari does think of it as a cell of sorts. Like a detainment room before being released into the world, all roads pointing home after that. This is the last leg of her trip, she supposes. In less than two days she’ll be back on her home soil.

“If you need anything you know how to call,” Xinyi remarks, gently closing the door when he exits. Mari exhales a sigh of relief and slumps into the bed.

In no time at all she succumbs to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Mari wakes up at around one in the afternoon to someone pounding relentlessly on her door. She grumbles, very much not wanting to leave the comforts of the bed sheets washed in cheap detergent, but the knocking doesn’t cease. It increasingly irritates her and she shuffles out of bed gracelessly.

“Okay, okay I– is something wrong?” Mari mumbles, rubbing her eyes. Xinyi's wife, Hua is standing in front of her with her brows furrowed with worry.

“Xinyi said you were here. I got worried when you didn’t come down for breakfast at ten,” the lady huffs indignantly.

“抱歉” Mari replies. “I’m just, y’know, exhausted from traveling.”

“Where did you come from?” Hua questions.

“Hangzhou, actually. I was, er, helping a friend,” she responds hesitantly. She’d much rather not remember the whole ordeal right now because she doesn’t have enough caffeine in her system to wake her up properly. Hua eyes her curiously, her lips pursing as she examines Mari’s expression.

“I’ll bring some food up for you then,” she says finally and turns around.

“Thank you.”

Just before Mari closes the door, the old lady calls out to her again.

“Be wary, Maria.”

Mari fully closes the door and slumps back over on the bed. She doesn’t bother with deciphering the cryptic message she just got because she’s tired.

Tired from the last twenty-four or so hours, tired from always lacking sleep or too much sleep, tired of traveling, not seeing her family, worrying about her little brother because she can’t (and hasn’t really) been there for him–

She’s so tired and all she wants to do is go home.

Hua eventually brings up a rice bowl for her with the inn’s specialty of cheap, watery coffee that somehow never fails to wake her up. She eagerly finishes it in less than half an hour before she decides to wander the streets for a while. There’s nothing else she can really do now.

So she walks the bustling streets of Shanghai, walking through parks and crowded areas. She stops by another market place that’s a little over twenty minutes away and browses. The bittersweet memory of her childhood returns, forcing her to turn away from it after less than an hour.

She doesn’t want to feel guilt.

But it’s there wherever she goes. She watches families walk by her and she thinks of her brother and nephews. She thinks of her aunts as she passes by the market stalls. She thinks of the oddly busy island of Tsushima that shouldn’t nearly be as busy as it is with how small it is.

But she’s going home and everything will fall back into place, she thinks.

 _Yes, everything will be fine_.

Someone runs into her again, head on like last night and pulling her from her thoughts. Mari lifts her gaze from the ground and eyes the perpetrator again. It’s the same black hoodie from last night. It gives her an uneasy feeling and she follows him in her mind. She tries to read his aura, finding bitterness and anger.

This time she doesn’t act on her irritation and watches as the stranger disappears again. Instead, Mari remains cautious and waits until his form is swallowed by the crowded streets.

She forgets all about him again when she gets back to the inn late in the afternoon with the promise of spending some time with Xinyi and his wife for dinner. They have pleasant conversations about her travels and the economy in their little part of the city. The couple knows she’s a witch and respect her desire to leave any discussion of that out of it. It’s all she could ask for really.

When she heads back up to her room, belly full and social needs sated, she plops onto the bed and turns on the TV. There’s nothing but news in rapidfire Chinese or game shows or dramas. Her grasp on Mandarin is a little rough and she only knows enough to get by. It’s a miracle the owners happened to speak english in the first place.

Her flight isn’t until the afternoon so she sees no need for going to bed early. It would be pointless to try anyway because her sleep schedule is screwed up from her flight yesterday and sleeping in today.

So Mari settles in restlessness as the TV goes on about the weather before she switches it to some cheesy drama.

Half an hour into the show she hears heavy footsteps coming up the hallway. The walls aren’t very thick, so it’s likely that someone’s just returning to their own room.

She thinks that until she hears the footsteps stop just shy of her door, breaking her attention to whatever was playing on the screen. The uneasy feeling from earlier that day returns. She cautiously crawls to the foot of the bed and waits for the movement to continue.

Five minutes pass then there’s a knock on her door.

It’s quiet, but it’s there. Mari quickly glances at the time showing on the TV.

11:11 it reads.

Mari wishes it to be Hua just checking up on her again.

The knocking happens again, this time a little louder and more present. To her, they sound echoey like they were being drowned in the caverns of her mind. She senses danger through that feeling and quietly approaches the door.

And danger smirks back right at her face.

Mari tries to scream but his hand is quickly over her mouth and her body is tightly held by his other arm. She struggles against him but to no avail.

“Oh Mari, did you think you could get away from the great Jean-Jacques Leroy?”

She flails and flails, her legs stomping the ground around him but he’s much stronger than her. He expertly shoves her inside with little restraint and slams the door shut.

“Stay away from me or I’ll–”

“You’ll what, call the cops? Please you don’t even have phone to try,” he snorts at her. “And besides, going by the books behind that shitty desk, this ratty inn is near to empty.”

Mari jumps onto the bed, landing on the other side of it. JJ stalks over leisurely with the sureness of knowing she has nowhere to go.

Mari’s fucked because she really has nowhere to go, but she sure as hell has a plan.

“I’ll make you pay for ruining everything,” he sneers at her.

Right by her foot is her duffel bag, chock full of different knick knacks she’d acquired over time. Some of which happened to be heavy talismans from witches of different countries. Like sticks and stones that she was hoping to use for a ritual one day but it seems that fate has other plans for them.

She dives under the bed, yanking for the bag as JJ dives towards her. He pulls her by the legs and tries to pry her off the bag.

“I will destroy everything you love! I will destroy _you_!” he wheezes out.

Mari kicks at him, easily managing an opening for her to grab a short staff with some carvings done by a witch in Nepal that has a bulbous end.

She turns to face him, swinging and batting in his general direction because at that moment she just gets him to stop. She swings and hits for however long before it takes her to realize that she’s hitting nothing but air.

Mari glances around the room in confusion for a split second before hearing a groan come from under the bed. She looks down at his writhing figure as he groans in pain.

Without a second thought she slams the staff back against his head, forceful but not deathly so.

And she stares at his motionless figure for the next few hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I wasn't too predictable about his character for the story ( ´♡ ` ) I feel kind of bad for making him a bad guy, but I really didn't want an OC in place...
> 
> One more chapter until our beloved Vicchan appears! (And no not Yuuri's dead dog.)
> 
> i live on the hellsite: [y-katsukiis](http://y-katsukiis.tumblr.com/)


	10. Nowhere and Everywhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy HECK this fic has nearly 3.5k hits??? And not to mention all the kudos and lovely comments I've been receiving I just– thank you guys so much!
> 
> I think I forgot to mention this in the last chapter but lemon blossoms signify warnings, and considering it's not that hard to get by lemon-scented air freshener's it was the easiest thing to use.
> 
> Just to reiterate, Mari mentioned how keen her senses are and that helps both her and Yuuri a lot when determining dangerous situations. It's innately in them. Also bear in mind that they're both well versed in divinations, hence giving them their respective abilities. My bby's are strong witches!!
> 
> ~~Also if you pay close attention, you'll notice I used a bit of the coven scene here lmao~~
> 
> Not beta'd.

At twenty-seven, Yuuri’s life is more stable and comfortable than he’d ever imagine it to be. He runs a successful business on the island that once looked down on his family, he has two amazingly gifted sons, and two unrelenting parent figures for himself.

Yet he feels like there’s still an emptiness in his heart.

He loves unconditionally but that extends as far as Yuri’s best friend, Otabek, who he began seeing as a third son because he was over so often. The aunts are always there to help him and keep him on the right track and Kanako is ever so understanding of his anxious situations. Kenjiro is helpful in the shop and well liked at school which is already more than Yuuri could’ve hoped to be when he was his age. Yuri was becoming more and more of a danseur everyday (much to Minako and Yuuri’s delight) and his magical abilities expand the more time he spends studying with the aunts.

Yuuri was surrounded by wonderful people, but he did not feel the same way of himself. Once upon a time he told the aunts that he’d prove that he wasn’t the same isolated, brooding boy he was years ago. There are still times when he’s unsure about being a parent, times when he lets his anxiety overwhelm him to the point that he feels like he’s failing his sons in one way or another.

He thinks constantly about his sister and how strong-willed she is. Mari had been gone for a few years now, visiting once to meet her nephews and gone again like the wind. She was the ever elusive aunt that Kanako had been in their own youth. He misses the comfort of being able to confide in her because talking to Phichit just wasn’t the same.

So he writes to her, because handwritten notes are more personal than emails or text messages. Phichit had gotten very into it recently but Yuuri was ‘too old-fashioned’ as his friend endearingly teased him. He can’t write as much as he used to because between work and family life there isn’t a lot of time. It stresses him out constantly. Sometimes he lets Phichit or Yuuko man the shop when he has his off days. Kenjiro began helping at the shop a couple years ago and Yuuri finally hired him as a full time employee just last summer.

“Saving up for ice skates,” his son had told him. He admired the everlasting flame behind his deep brown eyes and complied. Ironically enough, Kenjiro took to the ice well and loved nothing more than skating at the local rink on the other end of the island.

His youngest spent most of his days at the nearby dance studio where Minako helps out with on some days. He’s only eleven and already working to pointe because he had seen videos of his papa doing it when he was younger. Needless to say, Yuuri was very proud of his children.

He loved telling his sister about everything his boys did.

_Mari,_

_I assume you got Yura’s letter last week about getting bumped up to a more advanced dance class again, so I’m just going to cut to the point._

_Can you believe my little Yura is becoming a danseur? I can’t believe it! He’s already farther in his future career than I was at thirteen. And you can’t deny it either because there’s no way he’s not going to be a great danseur one day. He’s already incredibly dedicated._

_Kenjiro hasn’t sent you his letter yet but I’ll just say he’s definitely got something going on with figure skating too. I won’t delve into it any further than this because he’s really excited to tell you himself! You’d be so proud of him, nee-chan._

_I envy my children sometimes. Does that make me a bad parent? I don’t think I push my own aspirations on them. It might seem like it with Yura, but believe me I had nothing to do with him even getting into it. Just aunt Minako entertaining them with old videos of us._

_But despite that my life here doesn’t feel enough._

_I miss you lots too. Hopefully you’re still travelling safely and the weather is treating you well. You still use the belladonna right? Make sure you’re not upping your intake by too much. I know how desperate you can be._

_Write soon, Mari nee-chan._

_Love,_

_Yuuri_

 

* * *

 

Mari has no idea what to do.

Situationally speaking, right now she has a likely dying man next to her bed, no money, and no means of communicating her family as of the moment.

In an act of desperation and no hope left, she looks at the fading scar on her palm and thinks of her brother.

She hopes that her call will be strong enough.

 

* * *

 

On particularly bad days like when someone (usually Phichit) forgets to lock up the registry or an ignorant customer comes by accusing him of his remedies not working despite having the instructions right in front of him, Yuuri writes.

He frequently writes to Kolya, asking him about how the orphanage is doing and if he needs extra funding, or even Madame Odagaki because he’s a polite man and grateful tennant. Writing to others distracts him from the stressors in his life.

On some of those days, Yuuri finds himself wandering through the greenhouse that is now much smaller than he remembers it being as a child. He does it far into the hours of the night, long after Kenjiro and Yuri have holed themselves up in their rooms. It still has the same charm and energy that comforted him all those years ago.

He does that now as his fingers brush the pure white camellias. Those same camellias used in a promise so long ago to protect himself from the clutches of love and the curse. He wonders if it was worth it–closing himself off from the world–and goes about his life aging day by day with only his bickering aunts and energetic sons to watch him.

Phichit is about as present to him as he ever was. He no longer lives in the old mansion but in town rooming with one of his college friends. He still works at the flower shop when he has free time on his off days and his company is always appreciated.

A shiver runs down Yuuri’s spine prompting him to look up. The wind had reasonably picked up since earlier that night and there’s an electricity flowing in the air. The moon glows orange, nearly blood red with a faint halo encircling it and he swallows.

“Blood on the moon,” he mumbles. Mother Nature has given him an omen and only hopes his sister sees it too.

Something in him warns that he needs to tell her anyways. A ring could mean days of danger if one wasn’t careful enough. Mari travels around far too much to not be in danger at any given time. He knows what she’s been up to in some of the places she’s been at.

He leaves the greenhouse behind in favor of the cluttered desk in his study. The room’s the same as it’s been since he traded with Mari’s. Same bed, same desk and chair, same armoire, everything except his clothes and the lack of his old friend’s belongings. In a way that idea taunts him, mocks him for being nearly thirty and staying in the past. His heart is still heavy with burden but sometimes it gets too heavy to bear on his own.

He writes to his sister.

_Dearest Mari,_

_Things are at a comfortable lull here, so much that I think it’ll drive me crazy. I think the island mentality is finally getting to me after living here for nearly two decades–even with being gone for three years. Now that I’m back and used to being away, everything feels so small and closed off. I feel like I’m being suffocated sometimes._

_Yet other times I feel like there’s this hole inside of me, like an emptiness that seems to burn. Was I wrong in casting to protect myself? Is it wrong to avoid love because I’m scared of the consequences? Sometimes I dream of feeling whole, being able to sleep each night without wanting what I can’t have._

_Maybe in another life, or unrealistically speaking, one day, I will have a love that even Atsuko's spell will lie down and be still for._

_Maybe I had my chance for happiness and threw it away by being selfish all those years ago._

_But all that is irrelevant now. There’s a ring around the moon tonight–sign of trouble not far behind. I had this strong urge to warn you because I can never know what you’re up to._

_Be safe, Mari._

_Love,_

_Yuuri_

He seals his letter in an envelope and draws little poodles on it (a personal touch he does just for her and Madame Odagaki on occasions). There are emotions sealed in there that not even the flora or evening breezes know, but he does know that Mari will understand him no matter what.

Yuuri walks out into the windy night. Without his glasses on everything looks like the same black and blue blob but the path is so familiar that the single lamp across the street is enough for him to find the mailbox by the gates. He carefully places the letter inside, making sure it has no chances of flying away. He couldn’t risk losing words that were intimate to him.

The wind brings a sprightly whiff of lavender towards him and it’s a little relaxing with the harried weather whipping his bangs into his face.

 _I should get a haircut soon,_ he thinks as he turns around toward the house. _Yuri and Kenjiro are probably due for one too_.

Halfway up the path the familiar scent of rosemary and wintergreens hit him like a train, causing his knees to buckle in the harsh wind. At the same time visions of wormwood invades his thoughts, the tendril like leaves extending and clawing at a figure in his mind. Then the phone rings. Yuuri leaps to his feet and sprints inside.

“Mari!”

His bare feet tread the familiar dirt and leaves of the path as he slams into the front door. He frantically opens it then rushes to the kitchen landline.

Yuuri hesitates for a moment before picking up the phone. He prays for a brief second that it will be Mari on the other end and not someone else calling in place of her. He picks up the phone.

“M–Mari?” he cries out.

“ _Yuuri, help me please. I’m so scared. So–”_

“It’s okay Mari, I’m here. _Nee-chan_ , listen to me. You have to breathe,” he urges. He can hear her taking deep breathe on the other end of the line but he still hears her silent sobs.

“ _I just wanted to protect her, I don’t know how this happened but he followed me all the way here_.”

“Who did?” he tries to question as calmly as possible.

“ _JJ. He, he–_ ” she chokes out

“Maria, breath!” he scolds with as much delicacy he can manage. “What happened?”

“ _It’s a hell of a long story but you need to come to Shanghai and pick me up and… him too_.”

“What?!” Yuuri shrieks. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thinks he hears footsteps bounding down the steps but is too distraught to care at the moment. “Wait, what do you mean–”

“ _I may or may not have knocked him out. Like unconscious and oh god he’s just lying there in front of me and–he followed me all the way to Shanghai! Please, just help me!_ ”

He stands there for a second, dumbfounded at the revelation that his sister, who bear in mind is a good few centimeters shorter than him, beat up a full grown man. Knocking him _unconscious_ of all things. Actually, scratch that. He’s not as surprised as he should be with that.

“ _Yuuri?_ ” Mari prods from the other end. He moves to speak but is cut off by a hand on his shoulder. When he turns to face the source, Minako is gripping him like a vice and Kanako is sharing the same stern look.

“Go to her,” they say together. He swallows and nods, turning back to his conversation.

“I need you to text me the address. I’ll take Yamaguchi-san’s boat out tonight,” he says.

“ _Thank you, thank you, thank you!”_ she exhales rapidly. He can physically feel her relief on the other end.

“Hang tight, Mari _nee-chan_.”

“ _Take care,_ ” she chokes out finally and he puts the landline back. For a moment he has to process everything she’s said to him. Yuuri sighs deeply and rubs his temples.

“Don’t worry about the boys, Yuuri. We’ll take care of them,” Kanako gingerly cards her hand through his hair, trying to soothe the headache building up already. He looks up from his hands.

“We’ll even take them to the Midsummer Festival! You know how fun that is!” Minako chirps from behind her sister. Yuuri grimaces at that as he shuffles for his keys and wallet.

“No! You can’t take them to that, they–”

“Oh please, they’ll love it,” Kanako joins in. “Besides, we’re always on the organization committee so we can’t back out now.”

Yuuri groans, shrugging a jacket on.

“Fine, but promise me that there will be _no_ dancing naked under the full moon!” he grumbles, pushing through the front door. The aunts follow him out to the porch and envelop him in a hug.

“Don’t worry about that, the nudity is entirely optional! As you well remember–”

“Bye aunt Mina, aunt Kana!” he yells indignantly into the night as he leaves his old aunts snickering on the porch. For a summer night, the wind is unnecessarily ferocious. He squeezes his jacket tightly around himself and adjusts his glasses.

The night was already long enough as it is.

 

* * *

 

After a lot of negotiating and explaining, the old fisherman is more than willing to take Yuuri to Hasetsu to go to Fukuoka. It’ll be easier to fly out than boat the whole stretch and the obscure time of the year will make the flight cheaper at least.

So he books a flight to Shanghai Pudong International Airport at five in the morning while discreetly trying to google “how to hide a dead body” on his phone. At least knows Mari is safe because he can _feel_ it. How she exactly got into this predicament he’ll pry out later, but for now he needs to get her home.

The flight he boards is only half full, much to his relief. He’s never actually flown anywhere before but he thinks that it’s just like riding a boat except the water’s not there.

 _It can’t be that bad right?_ he tries to reassure himself by ordering sake from the flight attendant who eyes him concernedly as he grips the armrests of his seat so hard that his knuckles turn white.

Then the moment the plane begins preparing for take off he’s holding back tears and an impending anxiety attack.

He’ll get his sister back for it later.

The flight is only three hours long but to him it feels like an eternity. The turbulence doesn’t make it any better either as he whimpers, clutching the complimentary pillow in his hands as he mutters nonsense in Japanese. A couple stewardesses passed by him, glancing with worried stares but he was far too deep in his anxiety of the plane crashing at any moment with the mild turbulence.

“Mari is totally fucking paying me back for this,” he whimpers.

When the flight finally lands (and he’s not looking forward for the trip home at all), he sprints out of the terminal and charges into a taxi. He asks the driver to step on it as much as he can, but the morning traffic is trickling in and wearing on his nerves.

The cab twists and weaves through a series of unfamiliar crowded streets. Yuuri tries his best to swallow his anxiety down and suck it up because what Mari’s going through has to be worse than this. Which brings him back to wondering how he’s going to hid a dead body for the rest of the ride.

The car stops just in front of a worn down looking apartment building that Yuuri assumes has been repurposed as a hotel of sorts. The neon lights are still flashing above, one of them flickering dangerously above. There’s an “open” displayed on a windowsill by the door and chinese characters he can’t translate.

He pays the cab driver probably more than he needs, asking him to wait outside for him to return. There’s no way he’s going to get a cab any other way.

Yuuri nearly trips over the sidewalk, shoving past the dusty glass door, slamming his hands on the desk inside. He glances around quickly to scan for anyone around. When he sees no one he calls out.

At some point a short and stout old man comes bumbling out of the office door just behind the desk, grumbling incoherent Mandarin and glancing at the clock behind him.

“好的，好吧，我起來了！你是什麼– Katsuki?” the man gives him a once-over, his eyes going wide at him. Yuuri’s confused as to how he knows him. “You’re Maria’s brother, right? Yuuri Katsuki?” he adds whilst scratching his half bald head.

“Y-Yes,” Yuuri swallows and nods. “Where is she?” he continues, trying to sound as composed as possible because there’s no way he’s going to tell this man that his sister probably killed a man in his hotel.

“She’s in room 404,” the old man replies. Yuuri nods and bows in thanks before jogging to the elevators before he can even be questioned.

The man disappears back into his office when Yuuri gets onto the old elevator, half praying that he won’t die in there because he isn’t used to elevators either. He feels pathetic for being anxious in one but his whole life he’s only been in two or three story buildings with stairs, maybe escalators.

Yuuri gives a cautionary glance up and down the halls when the door slides open. It’s quiet despite the sounds of the outside world seeping in and the lingering scent of cigarette smoke. There’s a hint of lemon blossom in the air that he mentally deduces to be more than just air freshener.

He follows the signs down the hallway to room 404 before pausing in front of the door. He takes a deep breath, willing himself to knock when the door swings wide open without a second thought.

“Yuuri?” his sister whimpers in front of him. Mari looks disheveled, sleep deprived, scared, so lost–everything he knows she’s not. It hurts to look at her this way because it’s not her standing there. Someone took her away from him.

“Where’s the asshole?” he glares angrily over her head, his burgundy eyes searching for the body.

“We have to take him back to Tsushima,” she adds hurriedly.

“What?” Yuuri’s gaze drifts back down to Mari, who’s impressively hunched into herself.

“We can’t leave him here and we can’t bring him back,” she mutters through sniffles.

“And how are we going to do that? We can’t just–” he realizes they’re still talking outside and grabs her shoulders instead. “Let’s take this inside. Show me the body and we’ll figure this out.”

Mari lets him turn her around and lead her back inside, guilt wracking every single nerve. She feels guilty for leading her little brother here and dragging him into her mess. He smooths a hand down her back gently, leading her toward the foot of the bed. Mari shuffles awkwardly, hugging herself.

Yuuri notices the two feet sticking from the side of the bed and swallows hard. He forgets that there are people much bigger than him, and while he isn’t a small man he’s certainly much smaller than this _Jean-Jacques_.

“Is that him?” he sputters out, warily eyeing the legs down below. His sister hums in response and sits on the foot of the bed. “He’s a lot bigger than I expected him to be.”

“Yeah, you know these damn westerners being so fucking tall,” she hisses. There’s malice and irritation in her voice–none of which he knows are directed at himself.

“How do you expect us to move him? Take him all the way back to _Japan_?” he groans as he runs a hand through his hair. A realization hits him all too suddenly.

“Oh my god, Mari, we’re going to take a _body_ back to fucking Japan,” he shudders at the thought. “We’re essentially _kidnapping_ him, holy shit. No, how the hell are we going to do this?” Yuuri feels his chest tighten.

“Yuuri, no, not now–”

“But when? Mari, when?!” he whisper yells because he’s so afraid all of a sudden. Anyone could hear them at this hour, and the walls aren’t exactly soundproof in a cheap hotel. “Oh my god, he’s still alive! This is kidnapping, Mari!”

“Okay, I know this seems bad but–”

“This is fucking _horrible_! Do you realize what this means?” his hands fly up to his hair, fisting in the strands tightly. “We could get arrested! I could lose my children! Who’s going to take care of the aunts? My business! Phichit and Yuuko! I can’t–”

“Yuuri, you have to breath, baby boy,” she tries to calm him down, her hands gesturing the intent.

“Don’t you _baby boy_ me!” he lashes at her.

“Look, I fucked up okay! Yes, I know, I get it! We’re going to figure this out together and this is my mess to clean. I just need a little help is all,” she says as coolly as possible. Yuuri’s head snaps to her direction and he scoffs.

“A little–a _little_ help? This is a huge fucking deal, Mari!” he raises his voice slightly and throws his arms into the air. “You’re asking me to transport a dead–”

“He’s not dead!” she retorts shoving his arms down.

“He might as well be!” Yuuri adds with exasperation and a twirl of his wrist. “The point is, how the hell are we going to do this without getting caught?”

He tightly wraps his arms around himself again and keels over. An unpleasant shiver runs down his spine as he tries to suppress a whimper.

“Oh my god, Mari, I don’t want to lose my children!” he heaves.

“You’re not going to lose Yurio or Kenji,” Mari assures him, grabbing has face and squeezing it with one strong hand.

“How do you know?” he half cries out.

“Because I do,” she says firmly whilst looking him in the eyes. She slowly releases the pressure on his face and her hands travel to grip his shoulders. “Because I do, Yuuri. I just do. And we need to have a little more hope than that.”

They stare at each other in silence until it’s broken by stirring. Both siblings look down at the pair of legs and watch one of the feet twitch. Mari’s grip involuntarily squeezes Yuuri tighter. The latter jumps back.

“ _Oh my god_ , is he waking up?” he hissed. The movement from the body ceases, but any movement at all means consciousness. He’s waking up, she knows it.

“Uh, um– shit,” she runs a hand through her hair, still longer than she’d like, and tugs at the strands. She stands up and thinks. Yuuri is still staring at JJ’s body fearing the worst.

_Knock him out again? No, can’t risk a second impact after the bashing I gave him._

Mari paces slightly towards her brother and steps back.

 _Tie him up? No!_ Mari groans at the thought, _He’s much stronger than me or Yuuri. He’d be too loud too._

She lets her eyes wander around the room, focusing her senses on finding a solution. The draft in this room is bad enough that the scents of the city seep through the vents above the window. Nothing in her room could help, but…

The stench of hard liquor hits her from outside. There’s a bar just down the street that always has rowdy customers. It’s only three in the afternoon, but they could make this work.

“Go to the bathroom. I have a little bit of belladonna left,” she instructs as she walks over to the dresser.

“B-Belladonna?” Yuuri squeaks, broken from his trance.

“Well, I was saving it for my flight back to Hasetsu,” she murmurs, pacing across the room. “But here should be just enough to keep him out for the rest of the day,” _And the rest of the trip, hopefully_ she thinks.

“Where are you going?” he questions. Mari shucks on a light jacket with a hood and collects her wallet from the top drawer.

“Shopping.”

 

* * *

 

Mari’s plan is simple (or at least so in her mind).

JJ will eventually wake up–that’s inevitable. He began showing signs of regaining consciousness before she even left. They can’t do anything without risking killing him on the spot.

Yuuri dragged him into the bathroom since the door could at least be locked from the outside. The dresser was also pushed in front of the door for extra security while he stood guard.

Mari, on the other hand, briskly paced toward a liquor store on the other side of the block. She knew of his heavy drinking habits and, if worst comes to worse, can at least bribe him with alcohol with a little extra something.

It’s not the strongest plan but it’s all she’s got.

She returns in less than half an hour with a bag of cheap tequila and shot glasses. Gods know that both she and her brother will need it after this.

“Is he still in there?” she asks walking through the door. She makes sure to lock it twice and hinge the deadbolt as well.

“Yeah and it’s been pretty quiet. Though that unnerves me a bit,” he adds. He’s sitting on the bed scrolling through his phone while occasionally slipping glances at the blocked door. “The room energy hasn’t shifted much so I don’t think he’s awake yet.”

“Good,” she needs him awake for this to work. Yuuri hands her a small vial of red dust. He carefully watches as she empties the remaining centimeter or so of it into the glass as she pours the drink over it.

“Are you taking that?” he quirks a brow at her.

“I’m not an idiot, Yuuri,” she scoffs at him. “I know how bad a concentrated amount of belladonna could be with alcohol.”

“He could die!”

“This hardass deserves it. We have to get him back first. Besides, I have connections so we can get his ass shipped over to Tsushima tonight,” her eyes follow the liquid as it swirls in the glass. Yuuri stares at her in disbelief with every possibility of this going wrong flying through his head. He has no better idea so he keeps his mouth shut.

Mari sets the glass down on the nightstand for the time being and walks toward the blockade. There’s a slim chance of her plan working, but the man on the other side would be in a weakened mental state with the hard hits he received the night before. That should at least work to her advantage.

She heaves the dresser away from the door so she can get in. Yuuri drops his phone and walks over to her, an assuring presence that if anything goes wrong he’ll be right behind her.

Mari takes a deep breath, opens the door, and steps in.

Sure enough Jean-Jacques is sprawled on the shower floor. His breathing is heavy and even, a clear indicator he’s still pretty knocked out.

“Yuuri, the bottle. The glasses too,” she calls out to her brother. Her eyes don’t leave JJ as his hand twitches. He’ll be awake soon.

Her brother reappears moments later with the cheap souvenir shot glasses, one full of sedatives, and the bottle and sets them down on the dresser. He pours a shot for both of them, handing the bottle and a glass to Mari before quickly downing his glass. The liquid burns in his throat but it’s a welcome distraction at this point.

Mari downs her shot and slams the glass down. She’s going to voluntarily wake him up since they have no other choice.

“Lock the door and stand nearby,” she commands. The young man nods firmly and shuts the door behind him.

“Alright, Leroy,” she huffs lowly, swirling the tequila bottle in her hand. “Rise and shine.”

She gingerly places the tequila on the counter and hunches over the man. She gives one forceful shove, waiting to see if it causes movement, and kicks him (hard, albeit a little gently) until she sees him move.

“Get up, princess,” she spits out bitterly despite her face remaining stoic. The man below her grunts. His eyelids flutter open slowly, wincing at the lights.

“Wh–where, what,” he mumbles. Something quickly snaps in his senses and he tries to lunge at Mari.

“You!”

“Uh-uh,” she tuts at him, pressing her heel against him as she lifts herself up. She has the upper hand with his weakened state. “You’re not going anywhere.”

JJ grumbles at her and deeply scowls.

“I don’t suggest sudden movement. You could hurt yourself,” she deadpans.

“The hell more do you want from me, you dumb bitch!” his voice comes out indistinct. JJ slowly pushes himself up with an arm and props himself up against the shower wall.

“I want you to pay for your sins,” Mari’s voice comes out laced in venom. Her expression is still careful and expressionless. A surge of energy bubbles through her, causing her honey-colored eyes to glow ominously at the onlooker.

The man’s eyes widen at the sight of her own pair. He whimpers slightly and tries to press himself closer to the wall.

“I want you–” her words ring in his mind feverishly, as though it’s the only thing can hear, “–to drink with me.”

Mari produces the shot glass from behind her, handing it over to him. JJ’s not as much as an idiot as she hoped, but his feeble mental state renders him helpless against her stare. It’s too overwhelming to think of anything else but her voice.

Despite his mental protests, he takes the glass from her, his fingers brushing lightly against hers. They feel hot–unnaturally so–that it burns his insides. The uneases fills him and nearly drowns him.

While stuck in the trance, he failed to notice Mari retrieving her own shot glass. Her stare never leaves him and he gets lost in the swirling gold in her irises. Swirling, shimmering gold, almost like the tequila in his shot glass.

 _Drink it_ , a voice says in the back of his mind.

But he doesn’t want to. He glances to the side for a brief second, finally willing her from her gaze. He sees the door knob. He could easily reach for it but the energy in the room is overwhelming.

 _Drink it,_ the voice urges again.

His eyes travel to the mirror searching for any means of fighting back. Instead, he sees the reflection of the door cracked slightly open. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows it really isn’t, but the man peering in through the reflection also has a powerful presence.

 _Drink it,_ his mouth moves but the words don’t come out.

He can’t bring himself to stop as Mari lowers her glass to his, clinking the rims lightly. His eyes dart hers and he can’t seem to look away,

“To your health,” she smirks wickedly at him. They both down the shots at the same time, the woman in front of him finally shutting her eyes.

JJ barely has any time to react to the earthy bitter taste of the belladonna and tequila concoction when he gags and chokes on his own spit for a second. The second after, he passes out on the floor.

 _Is he out?_ Mari hears a feather light voice tinkle behind her, prompting her to whip around to the source. Yuuri’s reflection stares back at her from the reflected ajar door. In reality, the door is shut tight and locked. Yuuri has the ability to manifest himself in reflective surfaces in dire situations. It was how they messed with the aunts a lot when they were children, other times it helped drive the bullies away.

“Yes,” she exhales. Hypnotism takes a great deal of spiritual, mental, and physical energy. If she ever has to do it, it’s only when she’s in a life-or-death situation. Mari turns around, finding the door wide open this time and her brother staring at the conked out man on the ground.

“Now what?” he asks.

“We ask Hua for help.”

 

* * *

 

Who would’ve thought Mari knew some interesting people?

He knows traveling had its perks: new experiences, cultures, food, etc. He also knows that there are an abundance of witches all around the world, some of which better known than others.

Yuuri likes to think that his family is a bunch of traditional witches, like those you’d hear in children’s books. Elemental magic, spells, potions, the usual.

But then there’s necromancers and alchemists even.

He never knew anyone quite like Long Hua. The elderly woman, according to his sister, was from an old witch clan in underground Shanghai. They dealt with darker forces, not unlike that of necromancy, but it always resulted in… dark, unnatural things. An eye for an eye, or so the saying goes.

“Hua says that she’ll cast to keep him fresh and undetectable for forty-eight hours at most, but all we really need is twenty-four so that should be enough,” Mari informs him as they walk into the terminal.

Prior to arriving at the airport, Mari had sought out the inn keeper’s wife and explained the situation. Apparently the elder had already suspected a negative energy looming in the area and was more than willing to help the siblings out. She was, however, left skeptical of how they were going to deal with it when they got home.

They left the body with her under the impression that she would take care of everything. Hua didn’t let them go until heeding them a warning.

“When he returns his soul may not be the same,” her black eyes filled with steely resolve.

“I don’t even think his soul was human-like to begin with,” Mari retorted. Hua just rolled her eyes at that and shoved them into the car with a clueless Xinyi.

Their flight back to Japan went smoothly. This time his sister was there to comfort him through the taxi, take off, flight, and landing. None of them went without playful teasing that Yuuri just glared at her for. He was far too sick and scared to properly bite back.

The two nearly cried in relief when they landed in Fukuoka.

“Man, it’s so good to be home where I can understand the language!” she sighs, stretching her arms high above her head as they walk down the terminal to find a cab.

“You’re not even _home_ yet,” Yuuri laughs alongside her.

They arrived at around ten, nearly eleven as they approached the baggage claim for Mari’s remaining luggage. She can’t wait until she doesn’t have to lug that backpack around anymore.

On the drive to the train station she receives an email from Hua regarding their special delivery.

_Good evening,_

_Your package should arrive an hour after reaching Tsushima._

_I’d be careful if I were you._

_Long Hua_

 

* * *

 

The train ride from Fukuoka to Hasetsu is ridden mostly in silence. Yuuri’s passed out against Mari, but she can’t tear her eyes away from the window.

Japan is more beautiful than she remembers it.

Home is more beautiful than she remembers it.

 

* * *

 

Yamaguchi-san readily meets them at the port. Yuuri already let him know when they’d be arriving, and the fisherman’s odd hours coincided with their late arrival. He was more than happy to welcome the missed Katsuki sibling home.

When they hit Tsushima’s ports, Mari hops off with giddy excitement. The docks, though now with more new modern machinery, still look nearly the same even in the darkness of the night.

The cold air welcomes her with scents of wintergreens and rosemary.

They walk the remaining mile and a half from the docks to the old Katsuki property. Along the way, Mari takes in the dim scenery and tries to picture the way it would look by day.

Fourteen years, Mari’s been gone from her home. Fourteen years since her lungs were full of the air she grew up with and the familiar scent of the evergreen forests along the roads.

Never had she ever felt so content with being sleep deprived and starving. Yuuri had promised her a homemade breakfast in the morning anyways. She just wanted to collapse on her bed at this point.

The two walked in silence until the modern street lamps were replaced by the antique looking ones that signalled they were approaching their home. Years of construction and renovation made their grandparents want to keep the beauty of its age.

They stopped, just in front of the gate, and Mari let the idea sink in.

Yuuri stood behind her as her hand gently caressed the faded white paint on the wicker gate. The tendrils of wood lightly creaking as her grip tightened.

“Well, are you gonna let us in?” he speaks up from behind her.

She grins widely at him and pushes the gate open. The gardens look slightly different, but as it was summer and it had been years, the crop must’ve changed. The roses still glowed despite the lack of a proper full moon but the waning crescent was just enough to illuminate the porch.

Furniture, paint, everything was still the same on the outside.

When she reached the door she had to stop herself again. Yuuri, noticing her hesitance, pushes past her and unlocks the door. He stands aside, gently nudging the door with his hand.

“Are you going in or not?” he questions her, the playfulness obvious in his voice.

Finally, Mari swallows and wills herself past the threshold.

Everything is nearly the same, the difference being there are new pictures lining the walls of her childhood home. There are some children’s belongings strewn around as well, still as cluttered as ever. The same musky scent of plants, baked goods, and centuries worth of living fills her nostrils.

“It’s good to be home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * 好的，好吧，我起來了！你是什麼– - Okay, okay! I’m up, what do you–
> 
> Minor note but I've been fixing typos and little transitional things in earlier chapters. I don't think they make that much of a difference but just to let you guys know in case you wanted to read an edited version of the earlier stuff!
> 
> i live on the hellsite: [y-katsukiis](http://y-katsukiis.tumblr.com/)


	11. Midnight Margaritas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, this chapter was a little hard to write because I wanted to incorporate the movie scenes but not so much, y'know? It's more fun if you make it your own and this is what this AU is all about. Speaking of, I feel like the story's a little lackluster right now. I'm clearly going off the timeline/scenes but there's always room for extra world building right? So I've considered turning this into a series so that I can make a collection of short stories pertaining to this fic but don't quite follow the plot. Kind of like the extra chapters but not directly related to the stories. I'll gladly take requests for short stories!
> 
> I also want to point out the age differences in this fic. Yuuri is twenty-seven, making Mari thirty-two, while Yurio is nine and Kenjiro is eleven. Minako's around fifty-four and Kanako is forty-nine, meaning our precious little Hiroko would've been fifty-two around this time. Everyone else's age differences are the same as they appear (i.e. Viktor is thirty-one, because of the four year difference between him and Yuuri).
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments and kudos!!
> 
> Not beta'd.

Both Katsuki siblings are hardcore sleepers, so it’s no surprise that it’s nearly one in the afternoon when Yuuri wakes up. He grumbles, scratching at the stubble under his chin when he yawns. He nearly has a heart attack about who’s running the shop but quickly remembers that Yuuko and Phichit at managing well without him.

Humidity seeps through the cracks of the windows wafting in the heady smell of rain. Yuuri always liked the rain. It watered his plants and always gave him a warm feeling in his chest.

He makes his way downstairs in search of coffee, expertly avoiding shoes and toys left on the stairs by his two sons, the motions muscle memory at this point. He sifts through the cabinet for two big mugs and finds that bag of Turkish coffee aunt Kanako likes so much. The stuff is strong so he enjoys it just as well.

Halfway through pressing it, Yuuri hears shuffling down the stairs. His sister’s voice silently curses as she trips over the toys and shoes.

“I forgot you had kids,” she mutters while glaring back at the steps. Her bedhead is atrocious and he can’t help but snort at the mess she is.

“They forget they have an aunt,” he teases back.

“That’s a fucking lie and you know it. Yurio writes to me more than you do sometimes,” she huffs indignantly and seats herself on the counter in the middle of the kitchen.

He resumes making the coffee while sitting in the comfortable silence. The wind picks up slightly, summer storms aren’t uncommon after all. Mari stares out into the vast expanse of the grey sky, idly humming something while her brother stirs the mugs.

Yuuri hands her one of the steaming mugs and prods over to the fridge. He pulls out a carton of eggs and a package of bacon. “Do you want some?” he asks.

“Sure.”

“Two and five?”

“You still remember after all this time?” Mari scoffs teasingly. Yuuri shoots a weak glare over his shoulder. “Who do you think helped feed you between aunt Minako’s sinking business and aunt Kana’s lack of cooking skills?”

“Right, right. Thanks,” she smiles. Her hands carefully lift the rim of the mug to her lips as she blows gently into the scalding liquid. “This smells really good. No wonder the aunts like this stuff.”

“Thanks to them I’ve been pretty much hooked too. Kinda need caffeine to take care of two energetic boys and running a business in between,” he hums, cracking the eggs into a skillet.

“How’s that going by the way?” she sips at her drink.

“The boys or the business?”

“Yes.”

“Neither Yuri nor Kenjiro know you’re going to be here, so that’s going to be a great surprise,” he chuckles. “They always ask about their elusive aunt.”

“I haven’t seen them in forever,” she sighs.

“Whose fault is that?” he muses from the stove. She only actually met them in person once, after hearing about them through Minako. Her initial reaction was to give Yuuri a piece of her own mind but the excitement was equal. Neither of them would’ve ever suspected either becoming a parent. So many things have changed since they were children. She may be an adult, but the thought doesn’t make it any less discomforting. So many years have gone by yet she feels the same – lost and stagnant.

“I was just kidding, Mari. We all know you’ve been dealing with your own business,” he replies. Mari catches his gaze over her mug, noting the worry in them.

“Man, you told them about my drug cartel, didn’t you?” she dramatically sighs.

“Yep, you caught me. Now they all know you’ve been smuggling drugs between countries,” Yuuri giggles. “Work is fine and pretty uneventful. It’s a stable living so I can’t really complain but…”

“ _But_?”

“I guess in a way I’m bored,” he sighs. He stares into the pan, watching the grease bubble around the food. Some splatter towards him, hitting his hand, but he barely flinches.

“Yuuri?” Mari calls out as she sets her mug onto the counter.

“I know it sounds really dumb, but I just can’t help but feel that I’m missing something in my life. I don’t understand how, I mean, I’m getting old and–”

“If _you’re_ old then what does that make _me_?” his sister deadpans.

“You know what I mean!” he retorts over his shoulder. He lifts the pan off the stove, carefully plating its contents onto two plates.

Mari hums, pursing her lips. “I kinda get what you mean. For a while now I’ve also been feeling like I’m missing something important,” she mumbles. “Gah, it’s too early to think about things.”

“It’s one in the afternoon, Mari,” Yuuri scoffs.

“That’s beside the point,” she waves a hand at him while her other reaches for a fork. “But that’s exactly it. It’s too early to determine that things are, y’know, _done_ for you.”

Yuuri pokes his eggs around, sighing before digging into his own food.

“We still have years ahead of us. Sure things feel like they’re going faster than they used to but at this point we’re just used to it. Time still changes things and who knows what it might bring,” she smirks and takes another bite of her eggs. “Geez, you keep talking like you're sixty and your life’s over, again, what does that make me?”

“Ancient,” he snorts at her. Mari retaliates with a dramatic hurt look.

“Then treat your elders better!” she pinches his nose. They laugh at each other and Yuuri nearly chokes on his food. “But for real, I do feel like I’m actually missing something really important,” Mari hums, setting her fork down. Yuuri nods at her and his expression reciprocates her emotions.

They finish eating and clean up the kitchen together with idle chatter. Yuuri has to help her navigate around the copious amount of storage in the room for the most part, but they get done soon enough.

Yuuri was wiping down the counter when Mari finally remembers.

“The body!” she sharply gasps and bolts to her feet. Yuuri is also startled by her sudden outburst and nearly drops the mugs he’d been working on.

Mari sprints out of the kitchen, barely avoiding the toys on the floor. She leaps over the mess, all but slamming into the front door as her fingers fumble to open it. The door creaks open with a hard shove. She glances around the porch, praying to every deity that it’s out there. Lo and behold there is a box hidden right behind the the rose bushes by the front steps.

It’s big and rather suspiciously shaped, as though they crammed him into the smallest box he could fit in but that would do regardless. Hua did promise him in good condition and she’s still upholding her to that promise.

She shoves the package onto the three steps leading onto the porch before switching positions and finishing through the threshold. There’s no way they could just leave it out here in plain sight. The neighbors are suspicious of them enough. She doesn’t really want to deal with a sopping wet body either.

Yuuri nearly drops the vase of flowers in his hands when she kicks the box into the kitchen.

“We–” she huffs, clearly out of breath because _damn, this asshole is heavy_ and slumps over her knees “–we are going to–,” she huffs again, “–deal with this asshole tonight.”

 

* * *

 

They don’t get around to dealing with the body until later that evening. Yuuri had tasked Mari with cleaning the downstairs area while he went to check up on Yuuko and Phichit at the shop. A downpour of rain began just as he entered the shop and he dreaded having to run through the weather. Yuuko had offered to ask her husband to pick him up, but Yuuri politely declined. He still wasn’t comfortable around others despite the Nishigoris being familiar for years now. Besides, Takeshi scared him a bit even though they both assured him that they had nothing against him.

By the time he got home he was drenched from head to toe. To top that all off he failed to consider that with Mari's lack of presence in the house she had no idea where everything was kept anymore. He begrudgingly took over the task after taking a quick shower and changing into warmer clothes.

“Okay, so how are we going to do this?” Yuuri’s brows furrow, placing his hands on his hips. The two stare intently at the box for the time being as though they could just will him to disappear. Unfortunately, magic doesn’t work like that.

“Well, first we have to get him out of the box–”

“I meant after that,” he chides. “That’s already a given.”

“Honestly, I didn’t think we’d get this far,” she admits under her breath.

“Oh my–  _nee-chan_!” thunder rumbles just as he speaks and startles them both slightly.

“There was a lot going on!” she whines at him. Yuuri just rolls his eyes and refuses to believe that this woman is five years his senior. She’s thirty-two for god’s sake.

“Fine, let’s just open the box and see what condition he’s in,” he finally caves in. Considering he has no better input it’s definitely a start.

Yuuri grabs his keys from a dish in the foyer and begins tearing away at the layers of tape. He can feel the magical enchantments cast around the box and likely some lining the tape. His fingers tingle slightly as they slowly break the seal. He carefully lifts the flaps, exposing a curled up Jean-Jacques in a fetal position.

“Help me get him onto the counter,” he huffs, pushing himself off the ground. Mari follows his instruction and the body is thrown onto the surface, albeit with some hard effort.

His body remains stiff and lifeless. A little too lifeless for either of them to feel comfortable.

They carefully examine the body. The man’s chest rises and falls ever so slightly, barely noticeable. Yuuri would’ve presumed him dead had it not been for that clear indicator.

“She did promise him in good condition,” Mari mutters under her breath. She sounds mildly displeased but there’s astonishment in her voice.

“I didn’t think this kind of magic was possible,” her brother adds, dumbfounded.

“You’d be surprised with the varying crafts around the world. I’m just glad there was help in the area,” Mari sighs, running a hand through her hair.

“What _would_ you have done?”

“Let’s not think about that,” she says. It was lucky enough that the old lady had been there and she doesn’t want to question fate and luck right now.

They’d have to wake him up again, no doubt about it. Any longer in this state he’d likely fall into comatose, or worse, actually die. Mari would much rather have him dead but that’s another legal matter neither of them want to deal with.

“Fuck, I forgot about the aunts,” she hisses rubbing at her temple. Yuuri must’ve forgotten about them as well by his accompanied groan.

“Y’know, it’s a good thing Kenji and Yura aren’t here because I’d make you swallow a whole bar of soap,” he wags a finger at her. “Besides, we have to get this done before they–wait, maybe they could help!” he leans over the counter whilst carefully avoiding the man’s limbs. Mari stands opposite him and expression turns pensive for a moment.

Minako and Kanako are much stronger in their abilities. They’re wiser and more practiced. It would be a good idea but they’re running out of time. Plus she doesn’t really want them to deal with the legalities of this either.

“No, we have to get this done soon. We don’t know how much longer we can hold him hostage like this.”

“So you admit this is a kidnapping then?”

“Yuuri, I swear to god–”

“Just trying to lighten the mood. Also simultaneously trying to acknowledge the depth of our situation,” he leans against the sink behind him and crosses his arms. His brows furrow as he intensifies his gaze on the body.

“How about this, we wake him up again and maybe we could brainwash him? I’m sure there’s a spell for that in one of the books and he can go home like nothing happened,” he adds. She has to admit, it’s not a bad idea. The only problem is the spell.

“Have you casted it before?” she asks. Yuuri just shrugs.

“Nope, but it’s worth a shot,” he supplies.

“It’s better than nothing I guess,” Mari hums back. His mind should still be in a state of shock like when she used hypnosis on him. Altering thoughts aren’t hard as long as the subject is mentally incapacitated.

“Alright then,” Yuuri leaves to get the spell books and materials while Mari keeps a watchful eye on JJ’s body. He should be out like a light, but she still can’t help the persistent feeling of something bad happening. She has full faith in her brother’s abilities but she’s also unsure about his ability to cast.

It takes practice to master spells – that alone could takes months or even years. For a moment she regrets not waiting for the aunts for help, but she won’t burden them with her absence anymore. She’s been gone enough and missing out on opportunities to make their lives easier.

“Should we think of a plan B before we start this?” he returns with two unceremoniously large books in his arms.

“Those are a lot bigger than I remember them being,” she winces.

“Well the aunts actually _do_ things in their free time y’know,” he shrugs. The books land on the counter with a loud thud. Dust swirl out of the pages and into the light. “So, backup plan?”

She thinks for a second, wondering if there really is a better solution that _does not_ involve exposing themselves. If all goes well it should be an easy fix. They could send him home as though nothing happened but there was always the chance of something going wrong.

“Okay then, while you think go get me some bird’s foot and mayflower while you’re thinking? Oh and maybe a morning glory. That should wake him up,” her brother sighs as his fingers gingerly leaf through the pages of the books. “It says there’s a chance of it working better while he’s still out but we have to be able to wake him up afterwards too.”

His fingers lightly skim the ancient pages of the first book while his opposite hand braces against an open page in another book. His glasses are perched on the tip of his nose but all attention is focused on the spells in front of him.

It’s almost alarming how serious her brother’s being. She remembers him being studious and gifted when it came to learning new things, a lack of outside company does that to a child. Seeing him as he is now–a grown adult with two children running a business–scares her. It reminds her that she missed out on a huge portion of his life. He had to fight most of his worst battles alone.

“Okay,” she hums in response and retreats to the day room. Her feet mechanically take her to the doors of the greenhouse, still sporting the same faded green paint flaking off the panels and dirty window panes that could never be cleaned. It was nice to think that even after a long time, something remained constant since her childhood.

The door latch unhinges easily unlike the way it did years ago. _Maybe some things changed for the better after all_ , she dryly laughs to herself. There are many new shelves and pots full of plants that she assumes are for Yu-Topia. She hasn’t been to the store yet, but she can already deduct that the products are exemplary.

As she walks the narrow aisle circling around the gardening table, her hands instinctively extend to feel the life inside. It’s surprisingly nostalgic just being able to feel the greenery like this. Her feet are bare too and exposes her to the cool tile and earth on the floor.

“Right, don’t get distracted. Bird’s foot, mayflower, morning glory,” she lists out loud to herself. She skims the different flowers adorning the shelves in search for a round, bright yellow blossom first. The greenhouse holds various enhancements that allow different species to thrive despite specific conditions. The corner that the camellias are in are just slightly cooler than where she find’s the bird’s foot because of it and sends a pleasant shiver down her spine.

Or perhaps it’s the summer rain cooling the greenhouse this time. The shower hasn’t stopped since this afternoon and she’s hoping it’s a sign. Water brings birth, cleanses, erases–she’d do anything to have all this gone from their lives. She pushes those thoughts to the back of her mind, trying not to lure karma with her hopeful thoughts.

It’s not particularly difficult to find the mayflowers. The ones they house have a specific purple to white gradient bleeding through the tiny white petals. They almost remind her of the little jasmine flowers that Yuuri likes so much.

The morning glories that are housed in the room are slightly trickier to the untrained eye. There’s a breed of solanaceae that looks similar, and while they appear nearly the same, the latter is much more dangerous. A poison.

Mari debates picking one as well just in case but reasons not to.

“Mari, he won’t stay fresh forever and I have everything else we need!” Yuuri yells from the kitchen.

“Alright, coming!” she yells back. Quickly gathering the blossoms in her hand, she pads out of the greenhouse to the kitchen.

Yuuri had apparently reoriented their guest while she was busy admiring the flowers. His body is now evenly splayed across the surface. There are white candles at the head with dancing flames adorning the wicks.

“Here are your flowers,” she hums, planting the stems in his hands. He inspects the flowers carefully and sets them down next to the body.

“Can you get me something white to write with?” Yuuri asks.

“Okay, um,” for a split second she realizes that there are about fifty something cupboards in the kitchen and she barely has any idea where the plates are. Instead of rummaging through the hundreds of doors, she has the brilliant idea to scour the fridge. There’s mayonnaise, _no_ . Rice? _Too messy_ . Whipped cream? _Perfect!_

“Is this alright?” she shakes the bottle at her brother.

“Yeah, actually that’s great. Perfect even,” he muses as he strides over to retrieve it. He makes his way over to JJ’s head and sets the bottle down next to it.

The first step is binding the flowers and enchanting the bound flora. Yuuri does it with a practiced grace regardless of his knowledge of the spell. His sister watches with rapt attention as his fingers delicately wrap string around their stems. The words he whispers are familiar to her, most spells are written in the same archaic language, some easily translated into english. She recognizes the words ‘bind’ and ‘memory’ and ‘seal.’

As he finishes the binding, he asks Mari to bare the body’s chest. Flesh contact will prove most potent. She yanks his jacket apart first and takes a pair of scissors to his shirt. The scissors tear away at the cotton fabric easily and leave his chest exposed. Yuuri places the bundle on the man’s chest and turns his attention to the book.

“Okay, okay… _memoriam tuam producam, commutare damna memoriae_ ,” he breaths slowly, his tongue still finding the rhythm of the incantation.

“Bring forth thy memory, exchange it for thy loss.”

Yuuri picks up the can of whipped cream, popping off the cap and letting it hit the floor. He pushes JJ’s hair away from his forehead and neatly draws an eye. Pleased with his work, he drops the can on the counter behind him before sneaking a dollop off the forehead. Mari quirks a brow as he pops his finger in his mouth.

“It’s perfectly good whipped cream,” he huffs. “Alright, did you get the words?” Mari nods in response. He picks up the flowers and holds them over the candle. The blossoms are consumed by flames, the petals and stems losing their once vibrant colors in favor of fading to black ash. He scatters the ashes around the body, encircling him in dust.

“We need to pin his throat,” Yuuri adds, carefully extracting the long, narrow pins from the book binding.

“Wait, what?” Mari sputters.

“We need to pin his larynx. The spell essentially prevents him from speaking past thoughts and it needs to be physically set,” he informs. Mari shudders at the thought. Reluctantly, she takes the needle in his left hand. She watches as he lines up his needle nearly on par with the man’s jugular. It’s far enough that the larynx wouldn't be damaged not the artery punctured.

Their eyes meet, clashing with swirling honey energy and burgundy energy. Yuuri begins the incantation, slowly pronouncing each word so Mari can catch up. It takes a couple of tries but soon enough their words fall in sync, and eventually falling out again as they grow comfortable with the words.

“ _Memoriam tuam producam, commutare damna memoriae. Memoriam tuam producam, commutare damna memoriae. Memoriam tuam producam, commutare damna–_ ”

Lost in the intensity of the moment, both fail to notice that their victim regained consciousness.

Or well, opened his eyes.

Yuuri notices first and gives a high pitched shriek, the pin in his hand clattering onto the floor completely forgotten. Mari follows suit and jumping nearly halfway across the kitchen. She haphazardly leaps onto the counter, dropping her own pin.

“Yuuri, is that supposed to happen?” she whimpers.

“I have no fucking clue!” he breaths back.

The two ogle at the man lying on the kitchen table with wide eyes. JJ’s eyes are cloudy, almost lifeless as they stare into the ceiling above. In fact, neither of them can tell if he’s breathing or not. Mari cautiously approaches him first, and her brother follows suit not a second later. He lays there, unseeing and unmoving.

Then JJ’s head snaps to the side where Mari stands.

Everything happens in such quick succession afterwards. The man yanks at her, growling and yelling curses at Mari. She screams and tries to fight back. Unfortunately Jean-Jacques is much stronger than her, effortlessly grabbing at her throat and yanking at her hair.

“I’m going to get you for this,” he spits out in an unnatural voice. “You’re going to suffer. You’re going to pay!” He pulls at her hair while his fingers dig deeply into her throat.

Yuuri can barely get a hold of either of them with how much they’re struggling against each other. His first instinct is to claw at him and yank him off but he’s easily shoved out of the way by strong arms. He has to act quickly otherwise his sister could suffer a worse fate.

Out of the corner of his eye he spots the iron skillet sitting on the stove. He lunges to grab it, nearly getting knocked over by JJ in the process, and swings it against the man’s head.

At first it does nothing, startles him for a bit but his spirit is resilient. Then the blows keep coming and he blindly swings in front of him willing with all his might for this man to stop hurting his sister. Screw saving his ass, Mari doesn’t deserve any of this. He keeps his eyes closed tightly the entire time.

“Yuuri! Yuuri, calm down! Stop!” Mari cries at him, trying to pin down his frantic arms. The pan drops from his hand and loudly crashes into the floor. His eyes are still closed as he blindly reaches for his sister’s comfort. “It’s fine, we’re fine, I’m fine.”

Both of them sob quietly into each other’s arms for a minute, their hearts racing after all the unnecessary excitement. Mari pushes away first and frowns at the mess. She turns back to face her brother, his eyes still shut tight and curled in on himself.

“Yuuri, please open your eyes,” she whispers. Yuuri fiercely shakes his head. “I need you to open your eyes and look at me.”

Her tone is commanding yet gentle, and it prompts his eyes to open ever so slightly. The world is a blur despite his glasses still resting on his face. There’s a warm light coming from the lights above and a figure slumped over the counter. _Oh_.

“M-Mari, what just happened?” he whimpers out.

“I don’t know, was any of that supposed to happen?” she asks quietly.

“I-I don’t know, _nee-chan_ ,” he manages to reply. His sister turns to face the man on the counter. No breathing, no voices, nothing but a coppery scent fills the air.

“Shit, I think he’s dead,” Mari hisses as she scrambles to her feet. She reaches out to feel his body to feel for life energy but none is emitted. She turns the body over and finds blood trickling down his forehead. His eyes are still wide, white and cloudy like they had been when they first re-opened.

Of course, this was the least desired outcome yet it was the outcome they got anyways. The two act fast, Mari pulling her brother to his feet and lifting JJ’s body off the counter.

“We have to hide him, Yuuri,” she says. Her brother stares back with wide eyes, still heavily dazed.

“Where–”

“The arbor. Hide him there. Under the bricks,” she grunts. “Are you going to help me or not?”

Yuuri complies, helping her lift his torso off the surface. They carry his body through the kitchen doors, Yuuri accidentally slamming the man’s head on the door frame. He apologizes quickly before continuing his way.

The setting outside is horribly appropriate for hiding a dead body–in the dead of night, rain hammering down, no neighbors in sight. Mari thinks that even if anyone did see them no one would be surprised. Everyone thought they were loons waiting to kill anyone that messed with them anyway. They drop his body behind one of the arbor fences as Yuuri begins leaves to search for his gardening tools.

Mari doesn’t want to waste time so she claws at the dirt while he’s gone. Granted it only effectively on scrapes off the top layer of muddy grass, it’s definitely a start and they only have so long to dig a six-foot deep hole.

Her brother returns and chucks a shovel in her direction. They dig in silence for what feels like an eternity before Yuuri deems the hole deep enough for the body. Together they roll the man into his grave and push the mud back in.

They finish just before dawn and the rain settles shortly before they managed to layer the wet earth.

“Y-You owe me, big time for this,” Yuuri exhales, rubbing at his arms looking for warmth. Mari shivers beside him, equally drenched from head to toe. Their feet pound against the mud beneath him as they will it to level out.

“Yeah,” she breaths back. “Th-Thank you, Yuuri. For, um, everything.”

“Don’t mention it,” he huffs. “I’m not kidding. We’re not talking about this ever again.”

Mari nods shakily, not even noticing that he finished stomping around. “Let’s go inside,” he finally says and takes his sister’s hand. He doesn’t look at her as he leads them, but Mari stares back with a blank expression.

_Thank you for protecting me, Yuuri._

 

* * *

 

When Mari wakes up, a dull stinging sensation nags at the side of her neck. It serves as a reminder of the aftermath from last night. Everything got out of hand and–

“Shit,” she silently curses to herself. Her limbs refuse to pull the rest of her out of bed so she lies, blankly staring at the ceiling.

Last night felt like a dream and she greatly wished it was despite of the physical pain her body is experiencing.

Eventually she’ll have to get up. The aunts and her nephews would be coming home soon. She had to be there to greet them. Finally be the one to welcome them home versus the other way around.

In the silence of the large house, stirring from the bottom floor could be heard. Naturally her brother would already be downstairs cleaning up as best he can and preparing brunch for them. She feels useless compared to him. What does she have to offer after dragging a curse to their own home? How are they going to deal with it?

She hopes that at least the rest of the family won’t have to deal with the repercussions.

Mari slowly heaved herself upright on the bed, scratching at her unruly hair. Her scalp stings a little from where it was yanked, but it’s not too bothersome. Just another lingering reminder that she refuses to dwell on for the time being.

She groggily shuffles over to her suitcase since there was barely any time to unpack her belongings. It’s not like she had many items to begin with because of her nomadic lifestyle. It was a blessing and a curse, but if she wanted to keep doing her laundry every single week she should probably look into filling the dresser in the attic–or well, her room.

The words felt strange to process. She was finally home, finally in her own room, and finally done with traveling. It was odd to think that she wouldn’t be worrying about flights or ferries or buses that it felt like being able to breathe again. It’s not that she didn’t enjoy that, in fact quite the contrary since she did it for years, but being able to call one place home and just _be_ home was… nice.

She glances at herself in the full length mirror beside the dresser. The damage from last night wasn’t as horrible as it felt. The panic and fear dulled down into regret and remorse. Her clothes are at least clean ones since she refused to collapse onto the bed in her watered down outfit from last night.

So she goes through the motions of looking presentable for the day, praying to every deity out there that her family won’t hate her for it. The aunts won’t know but they always have their ways of finding out. She doesn’t even want to think about Yuri or Kenjiro.

Eventually she finds it in herself to go downstairs and greet her brother. She finds him scrolling away on his phone with breakfast already laid out on the table.

“About time you got up,” he says without looking up. Mari frowns at the food.

“I thought they were coming this morning?”

“Aunt Mina called, she said Yura and Kenji were still enjoying themselves so we’ll see them this afternoon,” he huffs, finally setting down his phone. “I was worried I was going to have to put all this away.”

“Well, lucky you. I’m hear to eat my stress away,” she says, walking over to her plate beside his. Yuuri readjusts himself and sits next to Mari.

“You excited to see them again?” he muses, mixing the eggs into his rice.

“Which?”

“Both.”

“I guess. Well, no, of course I am. I haven’t seen them in years and I’ve missed them so much. It’s just that…”

“That?”

“It’s just that. I haven’t seen them in years.”

“Well nothing’s really changed. Aunt Kana may have gotten a little better at cooking and aunt Mina may have a few grey hairs, the boys got a little taller,” his voice trails off as he lifts the rice to his mouth. He slows down just before it reaches his lips to say, “Other than that we still love you.”

Mari freezes and glances over at Yuuri.

“Thanks.”

After that they continue about their day as they would, or more so as Yuuri would. Mari’s still trying to fit herself in back in the house but it’s not hard. She spends the rest of the morning in her room sorting through her belongings and throwing things away.

The attic is spacious, just the way she likes it. She’s spent enough time in too small, too damp rooms in a plethora of countries. There are two large windows on either end of the walls. They both open up fully and one even faces the sea. There’s another small window towards the back of the room that opens up to the townside. She and Yuuri would use it to spy on people that would walk by. Combined they knew enough things to scandalize a few of their former classmates.

There are still boxes towards the back as well, some of which she pushed back from the area her belongings now sit. Full of what, no one really knows. Some of the boxes farther back have probably been here as long as the house itself but no one cares enough to look. If anything they’d find Atsuko’s robes and maybe a few talismans but nothing of real use.

Her bed consists of a futon and a mountain of pillows she stole from the day room much to Yuuri’s irritation. Eventually she’ll get a bed, but for now Mari’s perfectly content with the old futon. It reminds her of the slumber parties Yuuri and the aunts would have with her. It only lasted until her first year in high school, and even then Yuuri spent more time hiding on his own.

Other than that, the room is fairly plain and empty still. It’s likely going to stay that way for a while as well because she’s so used to a lifestyle of not owning much. She thinks some of her old things are actually in some of the boxes back there but she has no interest in boy bands anymore. It’s pleasant and feels like home.

Sometime around noon-thirty, Yuuri calls her down. She finds him peering out the bay window facing the front yard, arms crossed with a soft smile on his face.

“They’re home,” the smile reaches his eyes. “Are you ready to see them again?” he turns to her.

Mari swallows. “Of course not, but I _want_ to see them,” she exhales. Yuuri walks around her toward the foyer to open the door. Mari walks up to the entryway between the two rooms and leans against the archway. She feels as though her heart’s going to leap out of her chest any moment and her hands toy with the sleeve of her cardigan.

The door squeaks open as Yuuri steps out onto the porch. Mari stands still where she is, still slightly terrified of the idea of seeing them again. In person. In flesh, blood, and breathing.

“Papa!” she hears two voices giggle excitedly and her brother grunting. She can’t help but smile. “It was so much fun! Y’know what we did?”

“Oh? What did you guys do?” he says.

“We danced naked under the full moon!” the boys shriek in tandem. Mari snickers, feeling the frustration of her brother towards the aunts.

“Oh, did you now?” he hums and the aunts just giggle.

“Where is she?” Minako asks from outside. For a second, no one says a thing and Mari’s scared they’re having a silent conversation about her. Then just when she feels like running, Minako walks through the old door, Kanako not far behind. They both stare at her in disbelief, like seeing a ghost in their own home.

“Maria?” Kanako pipes up from behind her sister. Mari swallows, nodding slightly. The aunts stare for a second longer, and after they smile at each other, both come hurtling into her arms. Mari nearly falls over with an _oof!_ and falls into a fit of giggles with them.

“Oh, my baby girl!” one of them, she’s unsure of which, squeals into her ears. She holds them both tighter.

“Papa, is that?” a small voice, she thinks it’s Yurio, says. She cranes her neck above the two ladies crushing the breath out of her and grins.

“Hello, _kotenok_!” she laughs. The aunts unhand her and watch as she makes her way to the two little boys. “Ah, my beautiful nephews!”

Yuuri softly laughs, watching as his songs practically attach themselves to his sister. Mari can’t help the smile that keeps getting wider with the excited cries of the kids around her. She looks up toward him and notices the knowing smirk on his face, practically hearing him say _I told you so_.

“Alright, go clean up then,” Yuuri ushers his boys towards the stairs. “You can tell me all about it later.”

The boys giggle, their feet thudding up the stairs. They’re both excitedly chattering about something that no one can really make out.

“Mari-chan,” Kanako calls out. She turns around finding said aunt already behind her. It catches her off guard for a second, causing her to squeak. Kanako just chuckles lightly. “You poor thing. Been up all night, have you?” she hums, cradling her cheek. A wave of relief floods through her and all at once she feels so small again. Mari nods shakily, leaning into her aunt’s hand.

Minako walks by and her hand catches her hair, gently smoothing it to the side. Her hand trails down her neck and onto the scratch imprinting the side of her throat. Mari’s breath hitches at the contact because she hadn’t thought about what to tell them.

“That’s just–”

“They’ll get what’s coming for them,” Minako admonishes with protectiveness in her gaze.

“Nothing a little ointment can’t help!” Kanako sing-songs. Mari smiles softly, thanking every deity out there that this is what she had to call home. “Brownie for breakfast?”

“Now you’re just trying to fatten me up again,” Mari laughs, and this time she feels no guilt when her aunt takes her hand.

 

* * *

 

“Holy shit, Yuuri, your flowers are amazing! Not to mention these oils. The lavender one works just like the ones we have in the greenhouse!” Mari gapes at the abundance of flora scattered throughout the little shop, prodding the petals of some flowers. Phichit snickers at her excitement while pulling out his phone to take pictures of his boss/best friend’s overexcitable older sister.

“Well I’m glad you think so but you of all people should know better than to poke at every flower in the room,” Yuuri grumbles from behind the counter. Yuuko offers an apologetic look as she walks around him, a crate of marigolds in hand.

Mari’s first instinct is to look for roses. Whenever she’d travel and find a garden, she’d always look for the roses. It’s always a small memento of home traveling around, and reminded her much of her little brother. He’s smells earthy, like the scent of a rose, and is delicate and lithe and graceful about his movements. And like every rose, even he has thorns that she knows very well of. She finds an array of roses, all from pure white to a deep blood red and even playful yellow ones. A familiar one catches her attention sitting on the counter by the register.

“Is that one of Atsuko’s roses?”

Yuuri tilts his head slightly to look at her in irritation. She flinches slightly and stutters, wondering if she did something wrong.

He just sighs, setting the pen in his hand down. “Sorry, ah, yes. It is. Though I could bring some good luck for the shop is all.”

Mari nods understandingly. The roses were a comfort growing up because of its magical protecting abilities, so it made sense to bring one here.

“How long has it been here?” She asks. Yuuri leans in slightly, glancing at where Yuuko and Phichit are working at the front of the store.

“All three years, but they don’t know that. I lock it up in the office some nights so they think I bring a new one every month or so,” he whispers.

“But they already know that–”

“I’m a witch? Yeah, but I’m protective of the little thing. Helps makes the regulars less curious too,” he informs.

“Winter?”

He shrugs. “I just don’t bring it out.” Mari nods again. “Alright, I think I’m done here,” Yuuri exhales dejectedly, slamming the notebook he was writing in shut. “Yuuko, you’re in charge. I don’t trust pipsqueak king here with the reins.”

“Yuuri, that was _one_ time!” Phichit whines from up front.

“And be thankful they only found the sunflowers,” her brother retorts. There’s definitely a story there to pry from them. “I’ll be leaving now. You know where I am,” he sighs. Mari quirks a brow at Yuuko but all she offers is a sad smile and slight shrug.

“Bye, Yuuri!” Yuuko sings. Yuuri gives a half hearted wave and slams the glass door shut behind him. Mari grimaces at the noise and looks over to the woman tending the tiger lilies.

“What’s up with him?” she asks from the counter. Phichit looks at her then back over to his coworker.

Yuuko remains fixated on the flowers but says, “Dress rehearsals with the little ones.”

Mari still doesn’t understand and continues staring at the woman working. Eventually, she turns to face her again.

“Yurio’s end-of-summer recital,” she hums, arranging the orange lilies with the white speckled ones. “Dress rehearsal week is always bustling with frantic parents and panicking children. Usually, there’s a system that has the parents helping out with all the prep going on. Not all parents obviously get positions, but Yuuri is obviously more than qualified to help. He has to go to the meeting about it regardless. Your brother’s a dancer by nature, so of course he wants to help but…” she trails off.

“But?”

“The parents are assholes. They think he’ll bring bad juju or something to their kids,” Phichit scowls at the poor cattails he had been rehydrating. “Seriously, I haven’t even seen him harm a fly! And don’t get me started with spiders. Once he just picked one up and–”

“Point is, Yuuri isn’t well liked for obviously stupid reasons and no one will let him lead,” Yuuko interjects. “The parents of the classes get assigned roles and they won’t even let him work clean up duty.”

Mari frowns at that. Of course her brother wants to help as much as he can. It’s part of the stubborn streak in him, and if she knows anything about him it’s that once he’s been told no over something he’s passionate about, he’ll fight for approval. It’s admirable of him, but also makes him reckless at times. Although he’s probably not as impulsive as he was when he was ten.

There’s not much she can do about it, or there might be…

“The studio’s in the square, right?” she hums.

“Yeah, by the ramen place,” Phichit answers.

“Perfect,” Mari sings and saunters over to the door. “I’ll be looking for my little brother then!” she says before slamming the same glass door her brother did.

Phichit and Yuuko share an exasperated look that seemed to say _they’re almost exactly the same_ and resume working.

 

* * *

 

The dance studio is right where she remembers it being, even after thirty years of not having to go there. Yuuri used to go to the same exact one when he was just younger than Yuri but stopped for obvious reasons. The kids didn’t like him, or any of the Katsukis that much. They were both on the receiving end of unpleasantries in school.

The facade is definitely more modern but it has a hideous green awning in front. Honestly, it could be mistaken for a cheap salon over a dance studio but it’s the only one on the island. At one time there were two but considering the second one was Minako’s it’s no surprise there’s only one standing today.

With a deep breath and a few silent words of encouragement, she pushes through the door and walks right up to the receptionist. The lady seems busy typing away, likely all work for the show coming up, and almost completely ignores Mari. She only notices her presence when Mari clears her throat.

“O-Oh! So sorry, I, um, how can I help y– Maria?” the lady looks up, eyes blown as wide as saucers. Mari frowns slightly, because she can’t seem to remember her face.

“Yes?” she replies. “Where’s Yuuri?”

“I-In the back, but you can’t–”

“Thank you!” she sing-songs and heads straight for the big room at the end of the hallway. She’s about to turn down a corridor when she finally remembers the woman’s name. “Oh I remember you now!” she abruptly turns on her heel and faces the woman. “You were that one with the bowl cut every year for pictures, right? Minerva Lim? Vera?”

Vera doesn’t respond, her jaw hanging.

“You lost weight too!” Mari calls out, barely able to hold in a nasty snicker, but seeing these people after years is great. Vera looked as though she saw a ghost.

There was one short corridor leading to the back of the building then another longer one leading to the large studio. That one was only used for the advanced class and dress rehearsals, if she remembered correctly. Both hallways were lined with pictures of various performers she doesn’t know. She recognized one as maybe Lilia Baranovskaya if her cheekbones (and Minako’s own posters) were anything to go by but doesn’t think much of it.

Yurio doesn’t have classes today, but the younger groups do. Only a few of the studios are in use and she easily finds the room the parents are meeting in through the little window adorning the studio door. They seem to be in the middle of an incredibly boring conversation because she spots her brother fidgeting in the back, desperately trying to stay awake. She grasps the handle and swings it open without a second thought.

“Hi, sorry, am I interrupting something? I’m just looking for my– oh nope there he is!” she plasters on a fake apologetic smile, marching over to a seat next Yuuri. He seems much more awake now that she’s here.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he whispers after the meeting resumes.

“Just wanted to see you in action, is all,” she hums back. Yuuri gives her a weak glare, but he’s clearly appreciating her consideration.

“Well you certainly won’t see me in action here,” he chuckles. Mari rolls her eyes and lightly bats his arm.

“Oh, bull. Cry me a river. You were born to dance, and you know it.”

“I was born to grow flowers and sell them at a tiny shop in a shitty location,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Oh yeah? You grow a pair in there too or is that out of your hands?”

“Mari!” the siblings snicker at each other. They know for a fact that the other parents are glaring at them but Yuuri can’t bring himself to care. He only does it because it’s apparently mandatory and he fully supports his son’s passion. This is the most fun he’s had in this meeting in years.

“I’ll be announcing the positions now!” some woman standing in front says. Mari recognizes her as someone that went to school and studio with Yuuri. Also not a nice person, and she can’t remember her name for crap anyways. “We’ll start with clean-up duty. Nico Urashi! Congratulations on clean-up!”

There are a few weak claps shared around the room. “What the hell is up with all this extra bullshit?” Mari frowns.

“It’s all really just for show. Also, I’m sure they do it to rub it in my face but it’s not like I really care,” he sighs. The lady keeps droning out names and positions and Mari doesn’t understand how there can be so many tasks for a class of fourteen kids. Instead, the two siblings mock to other parents and snicker loudly.

Someone eventually clears their throat, prompting them to stop. They both eyed the crowd sheepishly seeing that they’ve definitely caught everyone’s attention. The lady up front, who Mari now recognizes to be Debi Khan, glares at them. She pulls up the paper in front of her again and exhales in relief.

“And now, I’m pleased to announce our volunteer supervisor for the season performance,” Debi looks away from her paper for a second. “As most of you know, the volunteer supervisor oversees all the other volunteers, keeps track of the kids and all that good stuff, and will be the adult representative of the class,” she squeals far too delightedly. Mari can already tell it was rigged.

“She thinks too highly of herself,” she frowns at her brother. Yuuri just keeps his eyes forward and his hopes low.

“After twenty years you get used to it,” he deadpans. Mari bursts into another short fit of giggles but immediately silences when Debi holds the paper back up.

“Now, our volunteer supervisor for the season is…” the lady trails off, her brows furrowing in confusion. Her hands flip the paper a few times as she stares incredulously at the thing, as though it just insulted her to her face. _Which it probably has_ , Mari thinks smuggle.

“Um, the volunteer supervisor is, uh,” she sighs, accepting defeat, and looks up towards the Katsuki siblings in the corner. “Yuuri Katsuki.”

Mari whoops and gives him a one-woman standing ovation. No one else is clapping, more so just staring in confusion at the man sitting in the far corner. He stares back at his sister incredulously.

“Now that,” she inhales, leaning over him and smiling widely, “That there was worth this lame ass meeting.”

 

* * *

 

Things go pleasantly for another day. Mari fits herself right back into their routine in just a little over twenty-four hours. Just the day before she took Kenjiro to the rink for practice and went with Yuuri to drop off Yurio at the studio. She still finds what happened hilarious. The look on Debi’s face was priceless.

But apparently there were some things she did miss out on.

She woke up with a start, leaping off the bed and swatting at whatever was restricting airflow to her lungs. Yuuri is crouched by her bed, smirking at her as she scowls back.

“You hear that?” he whispers. She gives him a confused look. Sound travels fairly well the house, and especially so in the dead of night when both Yuri and Kenjiro are fast asleep.

There’s a clinking sound like glasses and ice. She definitely hears Minako and Kanako excitedly singing to each other. Soon after, the sound of a blender going off makes its way all the way up to the attic.

“Midnight margaritas!” Yuuri and Mari giggle at each other. Mari throws off her covers, quickly reaching for her cardigan before stumbling downstairs behind Yuuri. They’re a giggling, exasperated mess by the time they fall down the fourth flight of stairs. Minako and Kanako are already nursing their own glasses before handing each their own glass.

“About time you got the message,” Minako slurs, already slightly tipsy.

“You said you wouldn’t start without them,” Kanako weakly scolds her sister. “We thought tonight would be perfectly appropriate for catching up with drinks!”

“After the week we had? Definitely,” Mari scoffs, taking a hefty swig of her drink. Yuuri does the same and nearly empties his glass in one go. “Didn’t peg you for the type to drink.”

“I don’t. There’s a reason we only do this on special occasions,” he says as he inspects his glass.

“He goes off the walls! Like his old man used to!” Minako teases with a shit-eating grin. Yuuri scowls.

“And you still drink like there’s no tomorrow,” he retorts and Minako pinches his ear.

“Is that how you treat your elders?” she fake whines into his ear.

“Nope. Only old hags like you,” he jokes. Minako raises a hand in mock offense whilst the other two in the room snicker at the exchange.

The spend nearly two hours like that, drinking half-made margaritas and exchanging silly banter while dancing around the kitchen counter. Mari’s had her fair share of late night drinking at parties, even small house parties similar to the setting she’s in now. It still doesn’t compare to being around her two energetic aunts and smartass little brother.

By the third hour they’re all a wasted laughing mess, downing shot after shot since no one was sober enough to operate the blender. Minako and Kanako are happily slung around each other, slurring and singing.

“Hey. Hey, Yu–” Mari hiccups, “Yuuri!” she giggles. Her brother downs his sixth? Seventh? Twelfth? God knows, shot, slamming the glass down and sneering at her.

“Yes?” he drawls out.

“Gimme your hand,” she reaches out before he can even comprehend her request. “Here look, see this line?” her fingers trace a line from his wrist to his finger tips. He squints, and tries to argue that there’s no fate line there but he just stares at her instead. “You’re going to, oh you’re gonna love this, you’re gonna meet a man. Tall, handsome, pale as the moon and–”

“Mari!” he hiccups, drawing his hand away. She keeps her grip firm and pulls him back.

“Okay, okay, for real this time,” she snickers. “Okay, uh. Says here that you’re afraid that, uh, you’re gonna end up old and frigid like your frigid old hag aunts!” she screeched in laughter. The words taste oddly bitter coming out of her throat. The aunts are clearly taken aback by what she said, but they’re far too drowned out in giddiness.

“Oh please, we didn’t travel halfway across the globe to run from our problems!” Kanako wheezes through her own laughter. She doesn’t understand why it’s so funny, but her inhibitions have been dangerously lowered.

“Says the one that did just that _and_ tried to change her name,” Minako jabs at her side, earning a shrill breath.

“You did that too!”

“Hey now, guys, there’s nothing wrong with being a vagabond in this family,” Yuuri snorts. Mari should feel offended with the sensitive nature of the subject yet she can’t find it in herself to. Looking back at it now, it’s really silly and she can’t believe she even got away with it.

“Oh, but at least she got out there,” Kanako snorts. Her hand holding the shot glass sways in his direction, waving a finger from the rim. “We had to,” she hiccups, “We had to bind that damn spell with molasses to get you even near the guy.”

“Then you were completely oblivious!” Minako points out. Yuuri gapes back and they all stare at each other in disbelief.

That is only until another fit of hysteria takes over them. They laugh at each other, calling out names they’d never think of doing in their lives. Stupid comments that would gall them any other day but the alcohol just makes it sound so… so comical. It’s equally horrifying as they slowly realize the exchange going on.

Slowly they do begin to sober up. Mari nurses a half empty glass, pushing it around with her fingers. The words suddenly weigh on her and the guilt she felt before returns. It hands like a weight in her chest. Yuuri looks no better. He stares off into space, just over the aunts’ heads, completely expressionless.

“Ah, we’re out of tequila,” Minako whines, wrapping herself around Kanako. She graciously accepts the hug, one of her hands tangling in Minako’s hair. “Shame, it was foreign too.”

“Foreign?” Mari breaks from her trance, glancing at the two ladies cuddling. The elder one nods on Kanako’s bosom and lets out a muffled acknowledgement.

Foreign exports aren’t unusual, of course. Even on an island as secluded as this one. However there’s only one liquor store on the island and about all of their products are imports. The only place that has foreign liquor is a bar in the middle of town. So how did they get the bottle?

“Did Myra send you something again?” Yuuri huffs at them. “I told you to stop getting them to smuggle shit through the–”

“We found it on the porch!” Kanako giggles as she’s pulled down by Minako’s weight. Both of them fall to the floor in a fit of tired giggles but show no intention of getting up.

Yuuri and Mari stare at each other in confusion. They had been gone all day but didn’t notice anything unusual when they got back later that evening. They didn’t even hear anyone come by later in the night. “Someone just left it there?” Yuuri prods. Minako raises a thumbs up in their general direction.

Mari frowns in confusion. How could anyone slip past them undetected? And leave a bottle of alcohol of all things? It sounded incredibly questionable. She pushes herself up, the chair scraping loudly behind her, and marches over to the aunts’ side of the table. The bottle is turned around so they can’t see the label from their end, but already there’s the same stench of cheap tequila she should’ve recognized before.

It’s nearly empty, save for a few drops probably but who’s gonna salvage that. She turns it over in her hands and nearly drops it on the spot. Her eyes go wide, turning it over to her brother in disbelief.

“It can be,” he breathes, marching over to her. “No. No, way.”

“I refuse to believe it,” Mari curses under her breath. In panic, her feet take her to the kitchen sink and chuck it right in, shattering it to pieces. Just like she wished he would.

The aunts make a startled noise the the hallway. “What is going on in this house?” Kanako scolds. Mari looks back from where she’s standing and Yuuri just fidgets with his shirt. Neither of them even try to make eye contact with the aunts.

“We have a right to know,” Kanako hisses, suddenly very sober. Minako stands next to her, arms crossed, staring at Yuuri.

“Yuuri, do you have anything to say?” she asks, because he’s always been the more honest of the two. But he’s also been the least eloquent when it came to voicing his thoughts.

“W-We had a situation and handled it,” he mutters in a surprisingly confident tone. Mari looks thankful and relieved but they aunts clearly don’t buy it.

Just as they’re about to question them further, the broom by the back door falls.

“Company’s coming,” Kanako breathes.

They scowl in tandem, eyes narrowing at the pair. “Come, Kana,” Minako sighs, placing a hand at her sister’s back. She leads them up the stairs, leaving the younger Katsuki siblings behind.

“Oh my god, they know don’t they,” Mari whimpers, walking over to her brother. He accepts her with open arms and holds her tight.

“No. They don’t and they won’t. We can handle this. I promise you,” he breathes into her hair.

They stand there for a while, basking in their own comfort. Eventually, they find it in themselves to go upstairs and sleep while the hours still permit them to. Yuuri still has to see the boys off in the morning before they go play at Yuuko’s. They end up sleeping side by side in Yuuri’s room, relishing the old comfort of being close to each other.

All the while, somewhere upstairs the aunts are doing what they can to help.

It’s a harsh lesson, really. They both know Yuuri and Mari are stubborn individuals, and together they make an incredible wall. But they’re both old enough to be smart about their decisions. Unfortunately, the aunts know they haven’t been.

Not all of Atsuko’s belongings are stowed away in ancient crates in the attic. Some of the more valuable ones are stored where only a select few know. That being said, only the aunts know of its current whereabouts. So they silently pack their bags before lifting up a floorboard on the staircase.

“You think this is enough for both of them?” Minako whispers. She splays the silver cord through her fingers and silently admires the way it glistens in the moonlight.

“More than, even. They’re both so tiny you could wrap half that around their wrists a good few times,” her sister responds with a low chuckle. “It’ll be enough to protect them both though.”

Minako closes the board while Kana makes her way to the Kenjiro’s room. They do have their own rooms but their habit of needing to sleep together at times never really faded. It reminds her of the way Mari and Yuuri are.

Kenji’s arm is protectively wrapped around Yuri, holding him close. She hates to have to ruin the image but they have to leave soon.

“ _Zaichik, kotenok,_ ” she whispers while gently shaking them awake. Being the lighter of the two sleepers, Kenjiro stirs first. He winces at the contact and instinctively pulls Yuri closer to him. “Kenji, Yurio”

The older boy slowly opens his eyes, looking towards Kanako. His eyes always glow faintly at night but no one’s bothered to figure out why. He’s always been keen on his senses and incredibly gifted with spirituality.

“Aunt Kana?” he mutters as he pulls an arm away to rub at his eyes. Kanako smiles softly at a grimacing Yuri. “Is something wrong?”

“No, bunny. Nothing’s wrong. Aunt Minako and I have to leave though,” she whispers.

Yurio eventually opens his own eyes, the green glowing in the moonlight versus his older brother’s burning gaze. “Why are you leaving?” he slurs.

“Because you papa and your aunt Mari need some time to themselves,” Minako supplies from the doorway. The boys drowsily nod and questions it no further. They know better than to question the aunts about their habits at this point. Kanako asks them to show their wrists and the comply. She wraps the silver cord around each wrist thrice and ties it off with a little knot.

“Promise me no matter what happens you will not take these off,” she instructs. The boys nod, carefully listening to everything else the aunts had to say despite their exhaustion. They exchange kisses and good-nights before tucking them back in and quietly creeping through the house one more time.

And then just like the wind, the aunts are gone.

 

* * *

 

“Kenjiro, can you please go outside and find some mint? Please?” he mutters while cradling his head in his hand. Mari is no better state with her upper body strewn over the large dining table. No wonder his sons are eating on the central counter.

Yuuri strides over to the overhanging cupboards in search of mugs for Mari and himself. It takes him a few tries in his hungover state but he eventually finds the right one.

“Wow, how long has it been since you used the kitchen?” Mari snorts at him. She immediately regrets the decision when her headache spikes at the action. She groans and rests her head back in her arms.

“I don’t see you wandering around here either,” he bites back. That earns a glare from his sister which he reciprocates. “What do you want anyway?”

“Coffee?”

“Do you want to make your hangover worse?” Yuuri gives her an incredulous look.

“I’ve nursed worse with cheap beer,” she states.

“Papa what’s hanging over?” Yuri pipes up from the kitchen.

“Nothing important, baby,” he calls out. Mari snickers at him again and he sticks his tongue at her. His sister just grins.

“It’s in one of those cupboards by the fridge,” Yuuri says as he carefully closes the cabinet door. He sets two mugs on the counter in front of him and shuffles over to the sink. “Do me a favor and get it yourself because I’m making myself mint tea.”

Mari let’s out a dramatic whine and heaves herself off the table. She’s much more hungover than she remembers being and she stumbles into the kitchen ungracefully. The boys eyed her curiously and giggle every time she trips over her feet. Mari glares at them and the action sends them into a fit of giggles as they hide behind a cereal box.

“Speaking of, where are the aunts anyway?” she sighs while opening a number of doors. She eventually finds the right cabinet and sifts through the contents. For some reason the cupboards are much higher than she remembers so she resorts to climbing onto the counters.

“They left,” Yuri replies. Yuuri slams his mug down and Mari slips from the kitchen counter.

“Wait, what do you mean _they left_?” Yuuri strides over to his sons, abandoning the boiling kettle at the stove. The boys nod at him.

“Where did they go?” Mari questions from the entryway. Her hands tightly grip the sides of it, turning her knuckles white.

“Dunno,” Yuri replies.

“They did leave a message though,” Kenjiro adds.

“Which is?” Yuuri makes a circling motion with his hand urging the boys to continue. Kenjiro pauses for a moment, tilting his head towards his brother. A silent conversation passed between the two upon eye contact and Kenjiro’s fiery orange eyes lock onto his father’s burgundy brown ones. Something severe settles in his expression that irks both Mari and Yuuri.

“They said: _clean up your own mess_ ,” he says in the same dark, admonishing tone Minako would have. It’s enough to send a shiver between the older sibling pair’s spines. Mari’s grip goes slack and her arms drop to her sides. Yuuri can only gape at their words.

“Papa, what do they mean?” Kenjiro asks and the innocence returns to his expression. For an eleven-year-old, Kenjiro is incredibly perceptive. His gift of seeing the unseen makes him naturally inquisitive and cautious.

“It means your aunt Mari is an idiot and should stop getting into trouble,” he grits out through his clenched teeth.

“Hey, I did what I could!” she retorts from the kitchen. She stomps off to continue her quest for caffeine.

Yuuri pinches the bridge of his nose and drops the topic entirely. “Kenjiro, I thought I asked you to get mint.”

“Not while _he’s_ out there,” the boy lifts his gaze to the window across him and darts back at Yuuri. The man feels his blood run cold and stomps over to the window. He scans around, only noting the expanse of foliage and turns back to his son.

“What man, _zaichik_?” he questions again and keeps his eyes glued outside.

“Under the tree by the begonias,” Kenjiro replies. “Isn’t it too early for begonias though?”

It is too early. In fact, it’s two months two early. The weather is far too humid and warm.

“Yes, but it seems that nature is finicky this year,” he mutters and turns back to his children. When Yuri lifts his wrist something catches his eye.

“Yura, what’s that?”

He points to the silver cord coiling around his wrist. After a moment he realizes that Kenjiro is also sporting one.

“The aunts gave it to us,” the boy shrugs. Yuuri purses his lips at the answer but doesn’t pry any further. The aunts must’ve had a good reason to give it to them.

“Alright, well you can wear that ugly thing but the bus will be by in twenty minutes so please finish up and brush your teeth,” he ruffles their hair and walks back to the stove.

“Yes, papa!” they chorus as he turns away. He hears the stools scraping against the hardwood floor and the thumping of feet as they run upstairs.

Yuuri turns around to face his sister, finding her honey colored eyes are blown wide and her jaw practically on the floor. He cautiously approaches her.

“Mari, listen don’t make any rash decisions now–”

“It’s him isn’t it!” her voice comes out low and strangled. The tightness that was in her chest last night returns full force at the thought.

“No, Mari don’t–”

“It’s him!” she grunts, shoving Yuuri aside and sprinting out of the kitchen. Her bare feet kick up dirt from the path as she makes a beeline for the overgrowth of begonias beneath the small arbor in their yard. The blood red seeping through the white of their petals mock her own bloodstained hands. It’s like nature knows and this is how it’s paying her back.

“You stay away from us!” she shrieks. Anxiety and frustration courses through her as she thrashes at the plants. She rips the flowers apart and yanks its roots out of the dirt. She pulls and pulls and claws at the earth until Yuuri comes up from behind her and wrenches her away.

“Stop! Mari, stop!” he yells at her. He manages to pull her away from the poor red and white flowers despite all her thrashing. “Maria, breath!”

With all the emotion overwhelming her thoughts, her brother’s words are practically drowned out. Either JJ is trying to make her pay for killing him or mother nature is playing a cruel trick on her.

“Mari, please!” he whimpers out. That somehow gets her to stop writhing but her breath remain heavy and ragged. She turns to face him and breaks at the frustration she reads in her brother’s eyes.

“Y-Yuuri, I’m so sorry,” she whispers.

“It’s fine, but goddammit this is my problem now too. Let me handle this,” he gestures to the slightly mangled flowerbed. “Go inside and clean yourself up, we’re in a bad enough situation as it is,” he scolds. Mari nods and lets him help her off the scraped up earth.

“You’re such a mess,” he teasingly jabs at her then flicks her nose. The gesture at least gets her to chuckle weakly. Yuuri wraps his arms around her.

“Whatever’s going on right now we can fix together,” he reassures. Mari wraps her arms around him, practically squeezing and relenting release. In all her years of travelling, nothing would ever compare to this feeling. Where she feels most at home and safe–or at least protected, because she’s smart enough to know they’re not safe right now.

Yuuri pulls away first and he senses Mari’s reluctance to let go. She keeps her eyes away from the taunting earth behind her.

“Thank you, Yuuri,” she breathes out and looks up. He rewards her with one of those big, stupidly warm smiles that he’d give her when she had her own tough times in school. For a moment she smiles back then heads back into the house.

He watches his sister tread the path up to the porch, all the way until he sees the front door close. The second he hears it shut, he makes his way around the house to the shed. He stomps back over to the incriminating begonias and hacks away at them. He lets out every bit of indignation and irritability he has pent up from the last few days.

“Leave us alone, you bastard!” he wrenches out, repeatedly pounding the earth in front of him.

He would not be satisfied until every last flower was gone.

 

* * *

 

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” the man beside him grunts, hauling himself out of the cab.

“A creaky old house at the very edge of a tiny secluded island that looks overly run down? Seems to fit the description to me, Christophe,” he notes. Christophe rolls his eyes behind his lightly tinted sunglasses.

“It does seem ideal for a murder,” Christophe muses. “Besides, I hear the owners are _eccentric_.”

Christophe’s partner smirks beside him.

“Shall we then, Detective Giacometti?” he adjusts the lapels of his trench coat.

“Lead the way, Detective Nikiforov.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told y'all he was coming!!!
> 
> i live on the hellsite: [y-katsukiis](http://y-katsukiis.tumblr.com/)


	12. Good Cop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our silver-haired foreigner shows up just in time to interrogate the elder Katsuki siblings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little more conversational...? It's not awfully plot heavy but still relevant ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> i have nothing to say [dabs]
> 
> Not beta'd.

The house in front of them was definitely somewhat dilapidated. The paint was peeling off the panels, its color barely distinguishable at this point. It was still somehow magically standing on a firm foundation that doesn’t looked like it’d been touched for years despite the soft earth of the island. _Very strange, he notes._

He sees what he expected to–a large house, discolored by the sea breeze and aged by the sun with expanses of foliage around it as though it was protecting the house itself. The two men walk up to the front gate that’s been left unhinged and invite themselves in. A winding path that leads straight up to the front porch that breaks off around to the side of the house.

What he does not expect, however, is the attractive man hacking away at what looks to be a decently in shape flowerbed. His eyebrows raise to the crown of his head and his partner chokes beside him.

 _Very strange, indeed_.

“What’s his deal?” Christophe scoffs next to him.

“I, uh–no idea?” he tries. “Anyway, let’s go make ourselves known.”

“Fair enough.”

The pair let themselves in through the gate and carefully trudge the path leading to the arbor where the man was. He must’ve been awfully angry to be hacking away at a perfect decent bed of begonias.

The man didn’t notice either of them approach until Christophe spoke up.

“Excuse me, sir,” he declares in his professional tone. The man in question squeaks (adorably so), slamming the hoe into the ground. He turns around to face them while wiping his hands on his shirt.

“Are you Mr. Katsuki Yuuri?” Chris continues. The man–Yuuri–nods.

“Y-Yes, I am,” he replies, holding a hand out to him. Chris takes his hand and firmly shakes it.

“I’m Detective Christophe Giacometti,” Chris supplies.

“Detective Viktor Nikiforov,” Viktor grins brightly when Yuuri turns to shake his hand. He feels how his hands are soft, despite the obvious callusing from yard work likely. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir,” he adds a wink to his statement. Yuuri flushes slightly at the action and clears his throat.

“I, uh, sorry this must look funny but they weren’t supposed to be there is all,” he mumbles and runs a hand through his hair. “Anyway, to what do I owe the pleasure of hosting you detectives?” he smiles weakly.

“We’re on an international investigation committee regarding a Mr. Jean-Jacques Leroy going missing within the last seven days,” Chris replies pensively. Viktor notices Yuuri’s obvious discomfort on the subject as the man flinches at the mention of his name.

“O-Oh, I see,” Yuuri responds and eyes both detectives warily. “If you’ll excuse me for a second, would you mind continuing this inside? I need to put my equipment away first.”

“Go ahead,” Chris replies. Viktor watches the man retrieve his tools and saunter over behind the house. He eyes the flowers, now destroyed and strewn all over the patch on which they grew.

“Shame for these flowers to be ruined,” the Swiss man exhales. Viktor nods. “They didn’t look to bad over here.”

“Yet it seems like there’s an abundance of beautiful flora on the property,” Viktor notes as he scans the area. He notices the bright red roses that seem to glimmer in the sunlight that are lined along the fences and perimeter of the house itself. “Isn’t it a little late for roses?”

“The roses are specially bred, actually,” a voice speaks up from behind them. The detectives turn around to face Yuuri walking towards them, still trying to brush away the dirt on his clothes. “They’ve existed on this property for as long as the house has been here.”

“You seem an expert on the subject,” Chris chuckles lightly.

“I grew up here, after all,” Yuuri shrugs and motions for them to follow. They comply, hiking up the path leading towards the porch. Yuuri’s hands land on the door but he stops, abruptly turning around to face them. “You’ll have to excuse me for a moment. I have children running around and they’re not used to…company.” he adds.

Viktor quirks a brow at his choice of words and glances over at Christophe. His partner seems just as confused by it.

“Go ahead,” Viktor says.

“Thank you,” he adds with a smile. “You may come in though.”

The man leads them in through old oak door and they marvel at the state of the house. It definitely appears and feels centuries old, as Viktor read on the case file. The ambiance of the foyer would be similar to that of an antique shop had it not been for the children’s belongings strewn around the door.

“Ah, excuse the mess. We don’t usually expect company,” Yuuri huffs leaning over to pick up the scattered jackets.

“No worries,” Christophe hums. “Your house is quite beautiful. Very warm and cozy.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri smiles at them. “Um, feel free to wander. I’ll be back momentarily,” he says as he kicks off his shoes.

“Would you like us to take off our shoes?” Viktor pipes up before he runs off.

“No, it’s fine. I’m used to dirt getting tracked around the house at this point so I don’t mind,” he chuckles lightly.

“Alright,” and with that the man disappears up the seemingly endless flight of stairs.

 

* * *

 

The instant Yuuri makes it past the first flight of stairs, he bolts up the remaining two flights to Mari’s room in the attic. He nearly trips over himself a handful of times.

_No, I definitely did not notice the color of his eyes. Or the color of his hair – for gods’ sake it’s platinum blond not silver, get a hold of yourself!_

Yuri and Kenji will be fine, they’re holed up in a room right now (whose room, he doesn’t really care). He scrambles onto the floor of the attic, practically crawling on the last steps. The attic is a large, spacious room with no doors. It allows for easy access but with plenty of privacy thanks to the multitude of room dividers blocking off Mari’s sleeping area.

Yuuri finds his sister sitting in the lotus position in the middle of the room, her back facing the staircase. She hums steadily as she exhales deeply. Normally he’d feel bad intruding but he has no idea what to do about their unexpected guests downstairs.

“ _Nee-chan_!” he hisses at her. Mari startles and turns to face him.

“Oh my god, you fucking scared me–”

“There are _cops_ downstairs!” he groans through clenched teeth. Mari pushes to her feet and stumbles toward him.

“W-Wait, cops?” she whispers back. Her brother nods in response. “Like, _cop_ cops?”

“Like _international detectives_ kind of cops!” he stage whispers.

“Wait, why are we whispering,” she adds.

“I don’t even know,” Yuuri sighs deeply and runs a hand through his hair, his other hand finding leverage on his hip. “What are we going to do?”

Mari thinks for a moment, her lips pursing in deep thought. She honestly hadn’t thought through the fact that they were responsible for a Canadian going missing in Japan. Not a good thing at all.

“Well, first we have to distract them. Come up with a story, y’know?” Mari taps a finger on her lips.

“ _Come up_ with _a story_?! We don’t have time for this!” he hisses at her.

Mari rolls her eyes, “What else do you suggest?”

“I don’t know, but for some reason my gut is really trying to tell me that we should just tell the truth,” Yuuri rubs his arm, looking at her sheepishly.

“Are you serious?” she groans, her eyes widening.

“Then what _do_ you have in mind?” her brother bites back.

Mari inhales deeply and exhales, thinking out a course of action. An idea eventually strikes her. “I have a plan.”

 

* * *

 

Which her plan is absolutely, utterly ridiculous.

And just downright idiotic.

Yet he finds himself walking down the stairs, all cleaned up and hair slicked back with an obscenely tight black v-neck that he didn’t know he had.

“Flirt with them. Talk them up a bit,” Mari had said, as though it were the most natural thing to him in the world. She said he had the looks for it, so why not? Well he ever so eloquently explained that one, he can’t talk to people to begin with, and two, when has he ever in his life _seduce_ anyone?

Regardless, he finds himself stuck in this position with hopes to sweet talk his way out.

“Sure, send the anxiety-ridden adult who can barely communicate with anyone outside of work,” he mutters under his breath. “In what world would that even work?”

He finds both men wandering in his kitchen, as though it was the most unusual place they’ve ever been in. Their expressions make Yuuri frown. Is there something really strange about the room? As far as he’s concerned there’s nothing odd or out of place. He grew up with the kitchen just fine and he feels mildly offended by their gawking. Although he does fail to consider that no one has ever been to their kitchen in a sane mindset, let alone has he ever been in anyone else’s kitchen. He may have seen Yuuko’s once but assumed hers was the way it was due to house size (which he assumed the same about his own apartment in Hasetsu). Yuuri knew they lived on one of the biggest houses on the island, but that’s what you get when you’re estranged by everyone else for a few hundred years.

Yuuri takes a deep breath before rounding the corner into the archway, “Something wrong?” he asks before he can even stop himself. That wasn’t the intended question but his subconscious thoughts seem to have gotten the better of him.

“Oh, no, nothing at all!” Christophe gasps. “I’m sorry, we must’ve looked incredibly rude. It wasn’t that at all, just–”

“Your house is really beautiful. I’ve never been in a kitchen with so much… character,” a soft smile appears on Viktor’s face as he turns to Yuuri. They make eye contact, sending an involuntary shiver down his spine. How can someone have this much pull? He’s starting to find it a little difficult to be around detective Nikiforov. Regardless, he’s still unsure what to make of their expressions, but nothing indicates displeasure.

“Th-Thanks,” he replies, feeling his face flush. “So, you had, um, questions?”

Christophe turns on his heel to face him, “Yes, plenty.”

“Your sister, Maria? Is she here?” Viktor interjects before his partner can say anything else.

Yuuri squints at him, unsure of where he got that information. Well, they had probably done some research before hand but the question still shocks him. “How did you know about my sister?”

“Hm, well, I read the case file,” Viktor hums and that makes Yuuri feel stupid for asking. “But is she here?”

“Yes, but she’s, um, busy,” he says instead as he walks into the kitchen.

“Alright,” grunts Christophe, “first, you’re acquainted with Mr. Leroy?”

Yuuri frowns at him, “No, not exactly.” Which isn’t a lie because the one time he met the guy in person his sister was in danger and they both had to act fast.

“But your sister knew him?”

“You could say that,” he hums. It’s easy to fit into a hard-to-get-to persona when the person they’re questioning him about is not on his good side. Phichit had warned him once that he had a tendency to sass others when he was displeased. Maybe it’d be a good idea to incorporate that into Mari’s scheme. “They met at a bar, it was all friendly. She went to visit him and his fiancé in Canada then went right home afterwards.”

“She was the last person to see him then?” This time it’s Viktor who asks him as he walks around the counter. Yuuri eyes him warily, carefully observing his body language. This man is confident, he thinks, but there’s an ulterior motive hidden behind his eyes. He’s even giving off a slight anxious energy that Christophe doesn’t inhibit.

“I, uh– I wouldn’t know that,” he bites his tongue on the matter for now.

Christophe gives him a thoughtful gaze before digging into his coat. Viktor still seems to be absorbed his surroundings. “How old would you say this house is?”

“Oh, I know it’s five hundred twenty seven years old,” Yuuri answers out of habit. As far as his lineage is concerned, they’ve always been educated about their history and predecessors. Minako and Kanako always emphasized that when they tutored him and Mari long ago. “Is there something wrong with my house?” the words escape his mouth before his brain processes it.

“Ah! I– I mean, no worries–”

“Ignore him. He lets curiosity get the better of him most of the time,” Christophe huffs, unfolding a few papers in front of him. “Mr. Katsuki, our last reports of Mr. Leroy say that he took a flight to Shanghai, and later a flight to Japan.”

“Mr. Leroy never showed up for his Japan flight but sources indicate that aside from his ex-fiancé, your sister was the last to see him.”

Yuuri swallows thickly, “Well, see, um–”

“Oh, we have company!” a voice that could only be his sister’s echoes through the hall. She has this way of making her presence known in the most obnoxious ways, especially in a situation of confrontation like this. Always trying to play the innocent party, no matter how bad she is at acting. “Little brother, why didn’t you tell me?”

Yuuri turns to face her so his back is towards the other two men before mouthing an _I hate you_ to her. She ignores him, of course, and walks into the kitchen.

“Yurio and Kenjiro should be down soon. Will you walk them to the stop?” her question is blatantly directed towards him. Somewhere in the back of her mind she already knew Yuuri would chicken out on being straightforward with them, but now she’s offering him a way out. A way out that he’s definitely tempted to take. Unfortunately he can’t trust his sister to say anything that he can’t back. They’re each other’s alibis. They can’t risk having any detail off.

“No, Kenji and Yura will be fine,” he exhales. “Besides, it’s not far down the road and they’ve walked places on their own before.”

His sister gives him a slightly worried glance to which all he can offer is a smile. “If you say so.”

“Though I will see them out,” he adds.

“You have two children?” Viktor asks.

“Yes, an eleven-year-old and a nine-year-old.”

“They’re feisty little things, so I wouldn’t get on their bad side,” Mari snorts. Yuuri would argue back but he’s more focused on keeping his cool in front of the attrac– er, international detectives.

“Good morning, Miss Katsuki–”

“Mari is fine, I don’t do formalities,” Mari interrupts Christophe.

“Okay, Mari then. You knew Jean-Jacques Leroy?” he continues.

She rolls her eyes, “Boy, did I.” And all Yuuri wants to do is slam his head against the counter and wake up from this nightmare.

“He was an acquaintance, and we really only knew each other for a short period of time.” _Lies_ , Yuuri telepathically hisses at her. Mari shoots him a look but he just keeps his eyes to the side. “I was closer to his ex-fiancé actually. Him and I, well, things were a little messy.”

“A falling out then?” Viktor questions. “Did you have a fight?”

“I found him abusing Bella and I saved her,” is all she says, keeping her gaze dead on them. That part isn’t a lie, but it’s not the whole truth. So many things happened that day and she’d rather forget all of it.

“Did you use physical force?” he tries again.

“God, no, I–”

“He did,” Yuuri interjects again without thinking about his words. He really probably should’ve taken something with chamomile beforehand but it’s far too late now. “Well, I mean–”

“Mr. Leroy exerted physical force on your sister?” Christophe quirks a brow. Yuuri feels himself pale under the detective’s scrutinizing gaze. “You earlier implied that they were friendly.”

Mari shoots him a look. He quickly responds, “Well, yes he did, but she– I–”

“Were – was – past tense. My family and travels have no ties to each other, mister…”

“Giacometti. But since we’re dismissing professionalism, Christophe works just fine,” he grins slightly. “Oh, so sorry, my partner is Viktor Nikiforov but he seems to be busy ogling your home. I must say, it’s very becoming. A nice contrast to all the strange modern houses and country cottages we’ve been running into.”

“It’s fine, just not used to it is all,” Yuuri rubs his arm, smiling sheepishly. “B-But what happened was, at least what I heard, he was being incredibly, utterly rudely p-pushy and–”

“I told him to get lost. Isabella and I ran out of there in a heartbeat,” Mari interjects with a sharpness in her tone. “I brought her back to her family, and I came straight home to mine.”

Christophe nods, clicking a pen and scribbling away on a small notepad. “And your brother?”

“Was here the whole time. Right, Yuu-kun?” Mari glances over to him. His hand is still gripping at his arm. He nods at the men, ignoring the pain coming from squeezing too tight.

Viktor appears behind his partner, leaning over his shoulder to examine his notes. He gives his partner a hum, parsing the information in front of him. From what he can tell, they must be going over the case notes and cross checking with the information given. He and Mari hadn’t been lying so that wasn’t the issue. The thing was, they weren’t being fully honest either and the full truth could land them both in hot water. He doesn’t even want to think how it’ll affect–

“Papa!” a shrill voice calls accompanied by heavy thudding from the stairs. Of course, his children have an impeccable sense of timing when it comes to saving him from unwanted situations. He’d rather not be in conflict if he could help it.

Yuri comes running in ahead of his older brother and immediately latches himself onto Yuuri’s hip. “ _Kotenok,_ what’s with the face?” He laughs lightly upon noticing the slight grimace his youngest is wearing.

“The chimes in my room were going off,” Kenjiro says, stopping just shy of the entryway to the kitchen. He eyes the two men warily. Yuuri prays to every deity that nothing spontaneously combusts – his eldest still had trouble controlling his powers when he got anxious. “Papa, who are they?”

“They’re, ah, policemen, baby. They’re looking for someone and they’re asking for our help,” Yuuri smiles as he reaches out to him. The boy timidly walks over to his father, all the while keeping an eye on the two detectives who are still intently discussing their notes. Yuuri leans over, pulling his children close, “I know we’re not used to having people around, but you must promise me that you’ll be on your best behavior, yes?”

The boys face him and nod in response. “Thank you,” he plants a kiss on each of their heads and stands up. “Are you sure you want to take the bus? I can ask aunt Yuuko to come get you.”

“The runes said something’s going to happen, papa. We don’t want to go,” Yuri huffs and clings tighter to his side. Yuuri sighs; he never should’ve let Mari introduce them to her materialistic divination methods. “Is something going to happen, papa?”

“No, baby. Or at least nothing bad will happen,” he responds. His eyes trail around the room, inspecting the detectives and his sister. She’s scrutinizing them with such intensity that he’s scared she’ll bore a hole through them. Mind reading isn’t difficult, but they’re trained minds that were built to defend against those trying to get in. From the looks of it his sister isn’t getting anywhere near successful.

When the detectives are done with their little chat, they turn to face them and Mari quickly relaxes her expression. She walks over to her brother, smiling at the children. “How are my favorite boys this afternoon?”

“Okay, auntie,” Yuri mumbles, smiling shyly at her.

“Your sons, I assume?” Viktor asks.

“Mhm,” Yuuri hums, “Kenjiro is my eldest and Yuri is my youngest,” he smiles at them then looks up. The two scuffle behind him, peering from his sides. “They’re incredibly shy. I mentioned they weren’t used to strangers.”

“Hello,” Christophe grins at them, “My name is Christophe.”

“I’m Viktor,” his partner adds, his smile breaking into a huge heart-shape. Yuuri can’t help but find it slightly endearing; he’s never seen a smile like that before. He feels Kenjiro loosen the grip on his shirt slightly and move to stand beside him. Yuri doesn’t want to move one bit.

“Papa, that man has grey hair. Is he old like Irene-san?” Yuri grimaces, “She likes to pinch my cheeks and I don’t like it. Don’t pinch my cheeks, old man!” He declares.

Yuuri can only stutter apologies for his son’s behavior while Christophe and Mari seem relentlessly amused by it. They’re trying to stifle back laughter. Viktor, bless his heart, takes it all in his stride like he’s used to it.

His smile twitches at the corners, “No, I’m not an old man. I’m only thirty-one, and my hair is natural.”

“But isn’t auntie thirty-two?” Yuri tilts his head towards Mari, who’s face already shows it’s anticipating the worst.

“Yes, baby,” Yuuri replies.

The boy becomes elated upon realizing, “Then that means aunt Mari is an old lady!”

“You’re such a charmer, aren’t you, kitten?” She manages to choke out.

“My, they really are feisty,” Christophe snorts, still trying to suppress the worst of it from Viktor.

Yuuri sighs, “You haven’t even experienced Kenji’s wrath.”

“Tell me about it,” Viktor huffs, frowning at his partner. “Anyways, we appreciate you taking time to talk with us. We’ll likely have a follow up for this. Evidence is still missing and we believe he’s here.”

“Who’s here, papa?” Kenjiro tilts his head up to Yuuri. “Was it the garden man?”

“Garden man?” The silver-haired detective questions.

“H-He means, my old roommate. He helps in the garden a lot which is why,” Yuuri flails his arms, quickly trying to cover up his son’s apparition sighting. That’s not something he can exactly explain to men of the law, although these two seem understanding enough. It’s still too much of a bombshell.

Viktor seems skeptical about his answer but nods regardless. “Alright, well we’ll see ourselves out then. Here’s my card by the way–” he adds, pulling a small business card from inside his jacket, “–and Christophe can provide his own details,” he finishes with a wink. Christophe just rolls his eyes at him, procuring his own card and handing it over to Mari who’s closer to him.

“A-Ah! Do you need our numbers too?”

“It’s fine, we–”

“Yes, preferably a way to communicate with either of you, should you both be away from home,” Viktor beams at them as he swipes Christophe’s notepad from his hands.

After exchanging numbers and a final round of goodbyes, the two detectives are seen out the front door by an exasperated Mari. Yuuri had escaped into the living room with his boys, clearly exhausted by spending energy  with strangers. She can’t help the sinking feeling that something’s suspicious about the Russian man.

_There’s no way he could be, right?_

She keeps the thought far in the back of her mind, opting not to stress her brother out more. When she steps into the living room, Yuuri’s on the couch showing off one of the smaller grimoire’s in the house. The two little boys are listening with rapt attention and enjoying every moment of their father summoning plants from the small pots lining the bay window.

 _This is fine for now_ , she thinks as she retreats toward the greenhouse, desperately in search of more belladonna.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why am i like this :')
> 
> i live on the hellsite: [y-katsukiis](http://y-katsukiis.tumblr.com/)


	13. Charmed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bet y'all thought i was dead lmao (although i might as well have been)
> 
> If you haven't noticed, this fic is now a series! The other fic was the extra chapter that had been in this one originally. There's nothing new yet, nor is there anything planned as of now, but I ended up scrapping the other short chapter idea because it ended up working with the next chapter of my set outline. Prompts are welcome if you want to see anything else from more family fluff to a Katsuki sisters prequel.
> 
> Also I'm so sorry I haven't been able to update in a while. As I explained in the side story of this fic, my mental illnesses are making it harder and harder to do things but don't worry, I still love these stories with all my heart. It's just taking more effort than it used to.
> 
> Thank you for being patient and understanding :)
> 
> * cypress - mourning  
> * pansy - you are on my mind  
> * amethyst - most standard quartzes are good for clearing the mind and grounding  
> * hematite - good for circulation  
> * lepidolite - eases anxiety
> 
> Not beta'd.

The first ten minutes is spent in silence; Christophe continues to parse through the case file and trying to be explicitly thorough while Viktor grins like an idiot staring out the window of the cab. It’s a beautiful late summer day.

Then Viktor sighs, and as though on cue they speak at the same time.

“Don’t–” “Did you see how handsome he was, Chris?”

“Stop trying to hit on our suspects, Viktor. It’s very unprofessional of you,” Christophe faces him with a frown. Viktor just laughs and turns to face his partner as well.

“But he was pretty cute though! And that shirt,” Viktor exhales dreamily. “Besides, it’ll help speed up the interrogation process,” he hums.

“We already had their house number and address. We would’ve just invited them ourselves–”

“Where’s your spirit of adventure?” Viktor laughs again. “I mean, did you read their case file?”

Christophe quirks a brow at him, “Of course I did, why?”

“Did you read the local accounts of their family history?”

“Only some, and if you treat this like the Scotland case with that banshee again, I swear to god–”

“No – well, kinda?” He turns to face Christophe who’s scowling. Viktor just rolls his eyes, “I mean, it’s an old story I stumbled on while researching the island.”

“Do tell then.” his partner deadpans.

“Apparently the Katuski lineage has a tragic history.” Viktor supplies. “Their ancestors seemed to live long lives with few interactions in the outside world. Those that had spouses, which very few of them did, were widowed not long after their unions. All of them. Isn’t it strange?”

“With property like that maybe we have a gold-digger on our hands. Leroy _was_ to inherit his family’s business after all.”

“That was one of my initial assumptions but there’s more! The story becomes more complex; it seems like their lineage can be traced to their very first ancestor, which according to every bit of information I could gather, was a witch.”

Christophe groans and drops his head into his hands, “I knew it. It’s the O’Hare case all over again, isn’t it.”

“There’s a story about a curse, something about how they can’t fall in love or their lover dies. Something like that, and there are also stories about them being witches themselves,” the silver-haired man gestures excitedly with his hands. “It’s very interesting really, and apparently the last victims to succumb were the parents of our suspects.”

“I’m not sure that they’d appreciate you saying that their parents’ deaths were due to a curse. It was a faulty boiler, not some mystical force.” Christophe sighs. “And shouldn’t this incentive not to pursue him then?”

“Aww, does this mean you acknowledged my ulterior motives?” Viktor beams, leaning towards the other man.

“You’re insufferable. Just don’t get yourself killed, I don’t want to get partnered with Georgi.”

“Wasn’t he laid off?” Viktor grunts.

The Swiss man shrugs, “Too emotionally invested, but you realize he’s also the agency’s best forensic analyst right? They can’t just fire him.”

“Fair enough,” Viktor muses and reverts his gaze back to the outside world.

Tsushima is a charming little island. He finds it convenient that the establishments are small, very rural, with a slightly modern charm. That means he doesn’t have to go scouring around big cities in country after country again, and he very much appreciates that his lead brought them here.

He brings a gloved hand over the hidden pocket in his coat, feeling how the paper rumples slightly as he applies pressure. There are far too many mysteries on this island to discover and he fully intends to prolong their stay.

(Even if only to get a date out of his cute suspect.)

 

* * *

 

The rest of their first day was spent bumbling around and getting their bearings. They’re both left in awe over how close knit everything is. Everyone seems to know about everything and each other. He notes that it’s a closeted community – rarely visited by the outside world except for a few shops here and there – and people enjoy that simplicity.

Their second day was spent investigating what others knew about the Katsukis, which to both his and Chris’s surprise, everyone they asked had plenty to say. Some had nice things to say about their business dealings and how much Yuuri Katsuki had helped them in one way or another. Most, on the other hand, had plenty of colorful things to say about them.

“A placenta bar!” an elderly woman in a wheelchair declared to the detectives. After interrogating a group of adolescents what they knew about them, they were directed to a group of elderly people sitting at a café. All they got from them were weird urban legends about some deadly kiss and Mari having a snake tattoo that moved around her body. Knowing that these kids thought about the siblings irked them greatly.

Christophe sputtered, “I-I’m sorry, did you say a _placenta bar_?”

“Yes!” the woman hummed, “Where the aunts will cook you up a nice placenta to look eternally young and youthful, just like them!” she hissed in broken English.

Then the elderly group began babbling in rapid Japanese, to which they both assumed they were talking about the strange atrocities they created. Needless to say, they didn’t stay much longer but thanked them for their cooperation regardless.

Their next subjects weren’t that helpful either. It seemed that the parents had some vendetta against Yuuri, something about how he’s bad for children. Viktor can very much vouch that he’s a wonderful parent to his own from what little they experienced.

“Are you asking about the witches?” A boy perked up, obediently standing next to his mother whom they had been questioning at the time.

The detectives gave each other a curious look then nodded at the boy. “Witches?”

“Yeah! They’re witches! And when you make them mad they hex you!” The little boy squeaked. His mother hurried to shush him, covering his mouth in the process.

“A-Ah, don’t listen to him! It’s just– they’re, well… All I’m going to say is that they could’ve made eye contact with them or something and he just, I don’t know, mysteriously died,” she huffed as the boy struggled in her grasp. _People on this island are strange_ , Viktor decided.

“Alright then,” Christophe sighed because this is the twelfth person they’ve tried to interrogate today. All of them had the same strange accusatory tone, none of which made full sense to either Viktor or Christophe. Even the lady at the library continued to supply more information about the curse and how she wouldn’t be surprised if the man became infatuated with Mari, hence his sudden disappearance (what she leaves unsaid about it is apparent).

It’s mid-evening by the time they decide they’ve had enough.

 

* * *

 

So far the statements of the townspeople have been rather… obscene? Vivid? Interesting? Against everything he’s learned as a logical man of the law?

Luckily for him, his partner decides to spend the evening at a local bar – which leaves the room for his own personal investigation.

“Witchcraft...” he mutters under his breath. Viktor leafs through the files in front of him finding nothing but school and business records from Yuuri Katsuki. Mari’s file is about as bland as his (not that he’s uninteresting, he’d just seen more impressive records and that’s not necessarily a good thing). Hers is full of travel records and different financial statements. It seems she has done some trading in her time.

As for the aunts, they seem to only exist in the local gossip. They didn’t make an appearance when they first visited the Katsukis either. Somehow they’ve evaded nearly every form of legal documentation save for the few years when Kanako Katsuki traveled herself and property files.

Sure, Viktor finds the Katsuki family eccentric. They’re a little unconventional in their ways of dealing with things and they’re indeed a very straightforward group of people. The two little boys are especially keen on expressing their opinions on him (and his hair).

But what the townspeople said still lingers in his thoughts. They unashamedly accused them for crimes like meddling in the love lives of others and hexing naughty children. Usually things like that would make him laugh and prod for seriousness, but the people were completely serious. Well, probably not that old lady who accused them of running a “placenta bar.” He wasn’t quite sure about that statement.

Everyone just seems to have the same answers for their questions. One woman even said that if the man that disappeared turned up dead in a ditch, one of the Katsukis might’ve said something and _mysteriously_ died on the spot.

With that knowledge, Viktor decides to do some research on the subject matter.

So what if it sounds utterly ridiculous to other people? He may be a man of logic and reasoning occupationally, but internally he has the curiosity of a ten-year-old in a candy store. It’s the reason he chose to become a detective to begin with–there was always mystery. Something new to discover that lead to both answers and more questions.

He walks over to the desk in the corner of the room that had become their work station. It’s cluttered with mountains of paperworks and files from other countries regarding what’s-his-face’s disappearance (Viktor can never remember his name for some reason or other). He tries to organize the papers as much as he can in order to find the manila envelope he brought for himself.

Viktor shoves all the extra papers to the side and lays the envelope in front of him. It’s more of a personal investigation, so to speak. Pertains fully to the case but Christophe would find him incredulous for it. He can’t help the pull he feels to the Katsuki household nor their history. Something about it is so magnetic and he has to find out why.

The contents of the envelope are as follows: schooling records, adoption papers, and photocopied pages of books from the local library – all pertaining to Yuuri Katsuki. His record feels empty, as though there are far too many nooks and crannies to fully adhere the pieces that he has of Yuuri together.

What he knows is this:

\- the Katsukis are witches, as dutifully backed by the statements of various locals  of every age, gender and social standing (he told Chris, but would his partner believe him? He better after all this)

\- the sister had been elusive for over half her life (he wonders if this has anything to do with John-George or whatnot’s country hopping plan)

\- the Katsuki boys are… endearing, for lack of a better term

\- Yuuri Katsuki is an angel and he does not understand how he could be tied with any sort of murder.

One thing’s for sure, he will get to the bottom of this man and his family.

 

* * *

 

In the morning they agree to pay a visit to Yuuri’s shop in the afternoon. It’s been another slow day meandering through what little they had left to explore of suburban and commercial Tsushima. They’re mostly struck by the difference of the environment between the other neighborhoods versus where the Katsuki house stands.

The more time the detectives spend immersed in the small town, the more they realize how integral the family plays. The Katsukis are regarded like black sheep; most have no desire to even be around them. Especially the aunts. There will definitely be questions for them or regarding them in the future, but for now it seems as though some of the locals are more partial to the younger Katsuki generation. Namely Yuuri, who’s business had apparently taken off well by selling unique floral arrangements and ancient herbal remedies that more often than not have a guaranteed positive outcome.

The detectives leave their little motel room and make their way through the streets again at around quarter to four knowing full well that it’s almost never busy around that time. Rush hour traffic isn’t a thing and neither are rude pedestrians. Viktor greatly envies their lifestyle and momentarily considers retiring early and finding a cosy island like this to isolate himself on. He has the money to anyways. It’s easier to breathe when there are no responsibilities strangling the life out of you.

Yuuri’s shop is easy to spot as they’re briefly assaulted by hanging pots when they round the corner of the street they’re on. There’s an overgrown charm to it. It’s obvious that the space is perhaps a little too small for whatever Yuuri’s been doing but at the same time it’s well lived in. There are a plethora of mix matched pots just in front of the window as well. A few of the smaller ones are cracked on the sides and the dirt seeps through, allowing the plants to stray from their initial housing.

“Chris this is too adorable!” Viktor squeals as he ogles the colorful flowers dancing behind the big window. It reads “Yu-Topia Botanicals” in bright white antique style lettering. His partner hums his approval, equally captivated by the flora overflowing the awning.

It takes them another couple of minutes to break from their stupor and actually enter the store. The glass door jingles a bell as the walk through, prompting a dark skinned young man to pop up from behind a row of shelves.

“Hello, welcome to Yu-Topia!” the man beams brightly at them and waves. “I’m Phichit. Were you looking for something in particular?”

Christophe snorts, “Well, someone. Is Yuuri Katsuki in?” The man – _Phichit_ – instantly brightens upon hearing the name as his grin eases into a devious smirk.

“Well that’s a new request,” he hums as he walks around the shelves towards them. “Usually we get people coming in asking for all kinds of remedies, but never my own boss slash childhood best friend!”

“So you’re close then?” Viktor quirks a brow and purses his lips.

“Mhm,” Phichit hums, “Known him since I first moved here.”

Viktor nods in acknowledgement. Chris can practically feel what he wants to say but before he can stop him, Viktor finally continues with, “How well do you know him then?”

“I practically lived with him growing up,” Phichit eagerly responds. “I am much younger though, so Yuuri probably knows me better than I do him. He’s awfully reclusive too, so I wonder what prompts two pretty guys like you to come calling for him.” the smirk returns full force at his words.

The Russian shrugs, “Must be fate then.”

“P-Phichit-kun!” a voice shrieks from behind the counter. The three men in the middle of the store simultaneously turn to face a very perturbed looking Yuuri holding a potted succulent. “Why didn’t you tell me we had company!”

“Oh, hi Yuuri! You never told me you had two hot guys waiting on you!” Yuuri practically chokes at that. “Why didn’t you tell me such important things–”

“Phichit!” Yuuri hisses, harshly slamming the pot onto the counter. “Come here!”

Phichit turns back to face the two detectives with an innocent grin before walking over to where his best friend stands. They watchs as Yuuri pulls him in by his collar and begins whispering. (And if Viktor feels a little jealous from their proximity he had no logical reason to voice it).

Eventually Yuuri’s grip releases as he and Phichit round the counter, switching positions effectively. Phichit waves from where he stands, “It was nice meeting you both! I’m being sent to the dungeon now for being too–”

“Thank you, Phichit! I know you’re very busy with Naoki-san’s order so I wouldn’t want to keep you busy!” Yuuri interjects harshly. His friend merely snorts before turning around and disappearing behind a fridge stocked with cuttings.

“I’m so sorry about that,” Yuuri sighs approaching them. “He knew there’d be potential company, but I didn’t expect it to get so, um,” he hesitates for a moment to avert his gaze, “So impersonal.”

“No need.” Christophe laughs. “We’re flattered.”

Yuuri returns his gaze to them and nods sheepishly. “Alright.”

He looks at Christophe first, who’s grin is playful, then to Viktor, who’s expression is a little more outspoken. His smirk makes Yuuri flush.

“So did you have any questions for me today, detectives?” Yuuri shifts to cross his arms. The way he folds in on himself doesn’t go unnoticed by Viktor.

“Actually no,” Viktor says reassuringly. “Not at the moment at least. We wanted to continue understanding the environment here.”

Chris nods in agreement. “It’s quite a unique atmosphere.”

“You could say that,” Yuuri grimaces slightly. “Believe me, I grew up here. It’s not that great.”

“Oh, but on the contrary I think it’s wonderful!” Viktor says brightly.

Yuuri raises a questioning brow at him.

“Well if you have any questions, whether it be your case or my flowers, I’ll be behind the counter,” he adds with a firm tone this time. It catches the detectives off guard. They’d grown used to the timidity of the Japanese man and now he’s beginning to sound impatient. “Have a nice day.”

Then Yuuri bows politely before turning on his heel and relinquishing his grasp on his sides. They watch as he walks off with more sureity than they’ve seen from him since their first meeting and vanishing behind the same fridge of cuttings Phichit had gone behind.

“That was interesting,” the Swiss man breaks the silence. Viktor shifts his weight and begins wandering around the small store.

“You know, there’s something about him I just can’t shake,” Viktor sighs, weaving through the two short shelves stocked with different lotions and soaps. “Are you getting that feeling too?”

“Somewhat,” Christophe shrugs, approaching the opposite side of the shelves that his partner is sifting through.

“It’s like I’m missing something about him,” Viktor picks up a small bottle of essential oil and examines it. He turns the bottle in his hand, carefully reading the little panel of ingredients. He doesn’t even notice his partner walking around and looming over his shoulder.

“Belladonna and chamomile?” his partner hums thoughtfully.

“ _With traces of lilac extract and filtered through amethyst, hematite, and lepidolite_ ,” Viktor continues. “And this is all hand crafted too.”

“It’s probably just to market it better and justify the ridiculous price.” Chris frowns as he eyes the price card on the shelf. Viktor can’t help but agree at the prices but the locals seem to swear by it. Still, he opts not to say anything else.

He replaces the bottle into its row on the shelf and turns to face Christophe.

“Let’s go,” he huffs.

The Swiss man nods and follows him out of the store.

 

* * *

 

“Yuuri, I know you said there were cops investigating your sister but you never said they were _hot_ too!” Phichit whined, draping himself over Yuuri’s office chair. Naoki-san didn’t actually have an order in for today. He just really needed Phichit not around to say embarrassing things. It seemed like he was just a little too late despite his efforts.

He frowned at his friend, explaining that it was all irrelevant to him. They were working on an international murder case that he and his sister had committed. However the latter part was purposely left out from Phichit.

“It doesn’t matter. They won’t find anything here and they’ll be gone long before either of us will notice again,” Yuuri said bitterly, leaning agains the bookshelf across his desk. Phichit and Yuuko were his only two employees (not counting Kenjirou during the summer) so he had no issue using his office space as a lounge room. There was never space for an official lounge area for them anyways.

“You shouldn’t be afraid of approaching them,” Phichit says softly, knowing full well that that’s not what he’s actually afraid of. He just doesn’t want to phrase it in a way that allows Yuuri to know that he knows how desperate he is for contact. He of all people would know how much island life suffocated Yuuri.

(Yuuri doesn’t want to think about how much of that statement actually applies to Viktor.)

And that was how Yuuri mustered up the courage (after a few more encouraging words from his best friend) to reemerge from hiding to face the detectives. Luckily he manages to catch them just as the exit his shop.

He briskly walks around the counter in hopes to catch up with them. He stops, however, as he notices the two men pause for a brief conversation and then Chris is off while Viktor stays behind. The man is still staring at the flowers in front, barely aware of Yuuri hiding behind the flowers in his own shop.

He can’t help but notice how far off his expression looks. It’s like he’s barely existing, and for a breif moment Yuuri feels a connection to his heart. He smells cypress and pansies, swirling through his nostrils ever so faintly and he can’t help but wonder if there’s more to this detective than he lets on. They’ve only had two passing conversations after all. What Yuuri would give to know this man better.

Hesitantly, Yuuri walks up to the front door and pushes it open. The tinkle of the bell jostles the Russian man from his trance, flinching when Yuuri emerges from the shop.

“I, uh,” Yuuri begins, swallowing thickly. There’s a beat of awkward silence between them. Then Yuuri sucks in a breath, composing himself again. “Am I under some kind of surveillance?” he questions sternly.

“Beg your pardon?” Viktor manages to mutter out.

Yuuri sighs, visibly closing in on himself again. His epxression remains serious despite that.

“People have been gossiping about two foreigners asking about the island witches,” he says, staring Viktor dead in the eyes. “Have they been helpful to your case at all?”

“Well that depends,” Viktor shifts to face Yuuri. “ _Are_ you a witch?”

Yuuri stiffens for a briend second, frowning at the question.

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

The detective shrugs. “Could mean nothing. I was just curious, seeing as so many people consistently accused your family of heresy apparently.” Then Viktor pauses, his expression turning calculating as though he’s trying to find the right words to say.

“But with the numbers factored in, this could also be an elaborate set up.”

Another wave of silences washes over the two, albeit a little more tense than the earlier one.

“How do I know you’re not lying to me, Katsuki Yuuri?” Viktor hums. “How do I know your people aren’t lying to me?

Yuuri sighs, uncrossing his arms. His answer dumbfounds Viktor right away.

“Because that would be too easy,” he says. “Because we both know there’s something more to Jean-Jacques’ murder than meets the eye. The only question is, what will it take to find an answer?”

He doesn’t expect that answer at all. Apparently it was so shocking that Yuuri had to take a few steps closer just to shut his mouth for him.

“You know, for a detective you’re awfully soft on a case like this,” Yuuri exhales with a small smile. It takes a lot of effort for Viktor to not melt right then and there.

“I’m not working tomorrow,” Yuuri continues, stepping away from him. “You know where to find me if you want answers.”

And the man turns away, gracefully striding back into his store where no doubt his best friend will be ready to relentlessly tease him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 3 am, I slept at five yesterday and barely had any sleep and my eyes aren't cooperating with me and I'm too tired to get my glasses, so apologies for all the typos I just noticed during my read through. I'll edit it when I'm more awake ;v;
> 
> i live on the hellsite: [y-katsukiis](http://y-katsukiis.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> I live for witch!Yuuri honestly. It's one of my favorite things ever.
> 
> Pls feel free to correct me on my Japanese folklore bc idk what the fuck I'm doing.
> 
> （＾＿－）≡★


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